Sudis, Clavus, Corpus
by SaukaraSnape
Summary: AU Severitus Challenge Fic: Harry Potter ran away at ten years and has been living on the streets. What happens to Harry Potter at Hogwarts? A Slytherin Harry Potter?
1. Mudbloods and Malfoys

A/N: If for some reason you can't read the summary, this is a Severitus Challenge fic. As promised, I will continue my other story, but this one will be updated more frequently. There are refreshments available in the lobby. Please enjoy the show.  
  
Sudis, Clavus, Corpus  
  
Chapter One  
  
Mudbloods and Malfoys  
  
A figure lay stretched out on the dark street, face illuminated by a flickering street lamp. It was a boy, and no more than that, for he was small and looked as if he hadn't eaten much for months. His eyes were closed; he was asleep. There was a curious scar on his forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt, and it was glowing strangely green.  
  
He stirred, his face twisted in pain, and rolled over, long strands of greasy black hair scattered around his head. His mouth opened slightly and he began to breathe faster. In moments his eyes shot open and the lightning shaped scar faded back to its normal color.  
  
Emerald green orbs stared into the lightening sky. After a minute he pulled himself up into a sitting position, half-turning to look at the horizon where the sun was beginning to peek over.  
  
He watched the sunrise, clutching his meager, torn clothing to him. It was clear just how thin he was when the material molded against him; his ribs stuck out like knives.  
  
When finally the sun had risen, the boy heaved himself to his feet. He really was small, and looked to be no more than nine, judging by his frame. But looks can be deceiving.  
  
The boy was about to step out of the alley he had camped in when he heard a fluttering behind him. He whirled around agilely, to see a dark shape growing nearer, coming from the sky. He waited for the shape to come into view.  
  
The street lamp flickered on again and the shape was illuminated: it was a bird, a large one, an owl.  
  
The owl flew up to the boy and landed on his shoulder, holding out one taloned foot. There was something attached; a letter. The boy untied it carefully and, the owl still on his shoulder, opened it.  
  
There were two sheets of parchment. The boy took out the first one, and unfolded it.  
  
August 25th  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed  
a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by  
no later than August 28th.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Minerva McGonagall,  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
The boy looked back up at the date. August 25th. It had taken them three days to find him. And he had one day to return the animal to them.  
  
He dug around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for. A stub of a coal. He turned the letter over and began to write on the back with the coal in very large, messy letters.  
  
Dear Whoever You Are,  
  
Magic isn't real. Here is your bird.  
  
Harry Potter  
  
That should do it, he thought, refolding the letter and placing it back in the envelope. He tied it back to the owl's leg. He didn't have time to close the envelope before the owl soared off. Harry Potter stared after it for a while, then turned and walked out of the alley into the bustling city of London, looking for some odd jobs to do to earn a bit of food.  
  
* * *  
  
Professor Minerva McGonagall, teacher of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor House, stormed through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, heading for a certain white-bearded Headmaster's office. A letter was clutched in her hand, a letter she had written.  
  
McGonagall halted in front of a stone gargoyle and glared at it. It shrugged.  
  
"Ice Mice." She said sharply. The gargoyle didn't move. "Ice Mice!" she repeated. It rolled its eyes at her.  
  
"Dumbledore changed his password." It said in a dull monotone voice. McGonagall glared.  
  
"Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Cockroach Cluster. Lemon Drops." The gargoyle swung open. McGonagall marched in and up the stairs.  
  
"Dumbledore!" She yelled as she grew nearer to the door to Professor Albus Dumbledore's office. Before she could plow right through it, it was pulled open, and a kindly bearded face was replaced with it. The face was followed by a body, dressed in a long shockingly pink dress-like thing. McGonagall was wearing the same, only in dark blue.  
  
"Minerva? What is it?" The face asked, twisting in worry. McGonagall stood stock still for a moment, staring at the man's attire.  
  
"Albus - what - what on earth are you wearing?" she spluttered. Albus Dumbledore looked down at his pink robes, then back at McGonagall, smiling.  
  
"I'm feeling particularly bright today. How about you?" he asked, looking at her robes. "Ah, yes, dark. So you're going for the dark and mysterious look, Minerva? I daresay Severus will not be happy that you have taken his style from him."  
  
McGonagall stood flabbergasted for another minute or two, then, tight- lipped, handed Dumbledore the letter. Dumbledore looked at it briefly, then looked back up.  
  
"So I have been accepted at Hogwarts? I am ever so happy." He said, and was rewarded with McGonagall's face going slightly red.  
  
"No, you old fool, read the back!" she snapped. Dumbledore smiled at her and turned over the letter.  
  
"Dear Whoever You Are, Magic isn't real. Here is your bird. Harry Potter. Fascinating." He read it aloud.  
  
"Albus, the students are arriving in one hour. He doesn't believe us, and he won't come. But he has to come. Lily and James's son has been on the list since before he was born. You know that." She said almost desperately, trying to convince him.  
  
"What do you expect me to do?" he asked.  
  
"Apparate to where he is staying with the Dougleys, or the Dummy's, or whatever their name is!" She cried, exasperated. Dumbledore seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded.  
  
"Alright. I will Apparate to the Dursleys. If, for some reason, the students arrive before I do, you must give the beginning of the year speech. Understood?" he said gravely. McGonagall nodded. "Very well. I'm off."  
  
And with Albus Dumbledore swept past McGonagall and down the stairs, through the corridors and across the grounds, to the edge of the anti- Apparition wards. And then he disappeared.  
  
* * *  
  
The Dursley family of Four Privet Drive was surprised when they heard their doorbell ringing after sunset. They were shocked to see an old man dressed in pink. And they were furious when they realized what he was.  
  
"Get away from my house! I won't have your sort tainting my son or my wife!" Vernon Dursley roared in the man's face, his great cheeks turning purple. The man only smiled.  
  
"I have come to take Harry Potter." He said.  
  
"There is no Harry Potter here!" Vernon screamed.  
  
"There is not?" the man inquired, obviously confused. "Are you not Vernon Dursley?"  
  
"Yes I am! That brat ran away a year ago! We haven't seen him since! Now get away from my house!" And with that, Vernon Dursley slammed his door shut on Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry Potter does not live here?" he murmured to himself. After a quick check for any nearby muggles, he drew out a long stick; his wand. He waved it around once, muttering a strange Latin incantation before whispering 'Find Harry Potter' and closing his eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry Potter had wandered into a little shop, clutching a few coins tightly in his hand. He was looking for some cheap food, and had found it. Two loaves of stale bread, one of slightly moldy cheese, and a small jug of sour milk. He gave his money to the shop owner and, shoving the food and drink into pockets of his huge clothes, exited the store. It was dark outside already, and he needed to find a place to spend the night. His normal alley was already occupied.  
  
Therefore he was extremely surprised when a set of shockingly pink robes and a long silver beard appeared in front of him. He stumbled backwards.  
  
"Harry? Harry Potter?" an old, kind voice asked. Harry stopped in his tracks.  
  
"Yes?" he said, his voice hoarse from minimum usage. The strange man seemed to be looking at him; this was confirmed when Harry saw a pair of twinkling blue eyes glowing at him from above the silvery beard.  
  
"Harry, I believe you received a letter a few days ago, carried by a bird. I am correct?" he said. Harry nodded slightly before realizing that the man could not see him.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Accepting you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It's real Harry, magic is real. I came to bring you to Hogwarts, as the Starting Feast will be beginning in . . ." the man's twinkling eyes disappeared for a moment, then reappeared. "It started ten minutes ago. The Sorting will be over in a few more minutes. We must hurry."  
  
"I don't know what you are talking about." Harry said defiantly.  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Magic isn't real!"  
  
"Yes Harry, it is."  
  
"Show me."  
  
The man sighed and a moment later the streetlight flickered on. The yellow light spilled across his face, revealing very old skin, a kind smile, and a hand pointing a stick at the streetlight.  
  
"Coincidence." Harry dismissed it. The man pointed the stick at his pink robe and whispered something. The end of the stick glowed red, and then a beam of fire shot out of it and onto his robes, catching them on fire. Harry was well aware that his mouth was hanging open, and when a stream of water snuffed out the fire, it was still hanging open.  
  
"Coincidence?" the man smiled. Harry closed his mouth. "Come along Harry, the Sorting is over, and I've left McGonagall in charge. We must hurry. Will you trust me?"  
  
Harry was about to say no and run away, but his eyes met the man's and he nodded. The man placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Harry flinched away, but colors were suddenly swirling around him, faster and faster, and he latched onto the hand to keep from falling away into the oblivion just below his dangling feet.  
  
* * *  
  
Blaise Zabini had just been Sorted into Slytherin. She wasn't thrilled. Slytherin looked by far the meanest of the four Houses, and she was timid. But she sat down at the far end of the table with her head held high anyway. The witch with the tight black bun had taken away the stool and Sorting Hat, and there was a few moments of uncomfortable silence. Blaise looked at her Housemates briefly, then turned her dark eyes to other tables. Another first year, with bushy hair, who sat at the Gryffindor table, had locked eyes with her and now they had engaged in a staring contest. Blaise was not fazed and she kept up her side. The Gryffindor turned away quickly.  
  
Blaise looked back at her own table and stared at her plate. It was a pretty silver color, but it was empty, and she was really hungry. She longed to touch the silver, but she knew better and kept her hands folded neatly in her lap. She still gazed hungrily at her plate.  
  
The strict-looking witch returned and made her way to the front table. She took the seat to the left of the main seat, which was empty. Blaise stared at the open space there now. Where was the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore?  
  
They sat in silence for another moment, until the witch stood up and cleared her throat. There was really no need for that though; every one was already looking at her.  
  
"Since Professor Dumbledore is attending to important business, I will give the beginning of the year speech.  
  
"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. There are a few start-of-term notices that I will get out of the way now. First years please note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. No magic is to be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for his or her team will contact Madam Hooch. And, finally, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds this year to anyone who does not wish to die a painful death."  
  
Murmurs broke out at the last comment, but were drowned out by cries of glee as the plates filled with food.  
  
Blaise looked at her own plate for a split second before filling her plate and digging in.  
  
Right in the middle of a bite of particularly good-looking beef, the doors slammed open. Fork halfway to her mouth, Blaise looked up to see who it was, along with the rest of the Great Hall.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry Potter stepped into a grander, bigger place than he could ever have imagined in his entire life. He followed the man obediently, looking around the giant room in awe, mouth slightly open. He was so enraptured by the things around him he nearly plowed into the man's back when the man halted.  
  
"The Sorting has already ended, Minerva?" the man asked. A woman in dark blue robes like the pink ones the man wore stood up, eyes immediately drifting to Harry. Harry returned her stare stoutly.  
  
"Yes I'm afraid so. Is this . . ?" She trailed off when the man nodded. She seemed to pale slightly as she looked back at Harry, at his tattered clothes, his long greasy black hair, and his ribs that stuck through his shirt. "I-I'll go get the Sorting Hat." She stammered and hurried off again.  
  
Harry felt the eyes of hundreds of people on him, and although he was quaking in fear inside, he returned their stares equally.  
  
He was very relieved when the woman returned with a stool and an old hat.  
  
"What? What's this? The sorting is over." A voice said. Harry looked for the voice quickly, but no one was speaking. When his eyes ran over the hat he stopped dead. A rip in the brim of the hat had opened, and two eye- socket like things had appeared. His mouth dropped open as he realized the hat had spoken.  
  
"All you have to do is put the Sorting Hat on, Harry." The man told him. Harry, too dumbstruck to speak, just nodded.  
  
"Potter, Harry." The woman called out in a slightly weak voice. Instantly whispers broke out.  
  
"Harry Potter?"  
  
"As in THE Harry Potter?"  
  
"Is she joking?"  
  
"THAT'S Harry Potter?"  
  
"No way!"  
  
"He looks like he hasn't taken a bath in a year!"  
  
But Harry had sat on the stool and the hat fell over his eyes.  
  
/Ah, Harry Potter, I see why I was awoken. Interesting, yes, you are an extremely hard worker, but no, you are not a Hufflepuff. You are clever but not enough for Ravenclaw. You would make an excellent Gryffindor, but an equally good Slytherin. It's all here in your head./  
  
'I don't care where you put me, just put me somewhere.' Harry thought to the hat.  
  
/As you wish. I shall put you in . . . SLYTHERIN!" the last word was yelled loud enough for the whole hall to hear, and hear they did. As the hat was taken off Harry's head and he was directed to a table, whispers broke out again.  
  
"Unbelievable! Harry Potter, a Slytherin?"  
  
Harry scanned the table briefly. There was an empty corner, save for one girl, who had returned to her food. He sat there, across from the girl. She stopped eating and looked up.  
  
"Why are you sitting here?" she asked. He glared in return.  
  
"Because I feel like it."  
  
She shrugged and finished eating her roll.  
  
After a moment people had returned to their own food and friends. Harry glanced at his own plate before remembering the food he had bought. He withdrew it from his pocket and put it on his plate. The girl looked up from her own to see his food, and her nose wrinkled in disgust.  
  
"You're not going to /eat/ that, are you?" she asked. Harry stared at her as though she had come from another planet.  
  
"No, I'm going to wear it as underwear." He said sarcastically. It was the girl's turn to stare.  
  
"You are?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Oh. So you're going to eat it?"  
  
"Of course I'm going to eat it!" he replied, exasperated.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's food."  
  
"But there's food all around you."  
  
"It's not mine."  
  
"It is now." And it was, for she had plopped some pudding on his plate. He looked at her as though as though she'd gone mad.  
  
"Are you crazy?" He whispered fiercely. "That's stealing!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I didn't pay for it! It isn't mine!"  
  
"You don't have to pay for food! It's free! Have you ever heard the word /free/ before?!" she cried. Harry didn't answer for a moment.  
  
"So . . . it's really mine?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Oh."  
  
He took his spoon up and hesitantly scooped up the pudding, putting it in his mouth and swallowing. The look on his face told that he had not eaten anything decent in a long time; he looked like he was in heaven.  
  
"That is really, really good!" He said once he'd swallowed. He looked at the girl, who was grinning.  
  
"If you think that was good, wait until you try to the beef." And she dropped some on his plate. As he devoured it she chuckled. "I feel like a mother feeding her son."  
  
* * *  
  
Up at the Staff Table, Severus Snape was staring at Albus Dumbledore in apparent shock.  
  
"How did this happen? How did James Potter's son get into Slytherin house?" he asked. Dumbledore looked up from his pork chops.  
  
"Try not to look as though the end of the world has arrived, Severus. You're scaring the students." He teased. Snape did not seem to have heard.  
  
"But how did that happen? Potter and Lily both were Gryffindor. How?"  
  
"Oh, Severus, it won't be too bad. You will survive."  
  
"But how? How did it happen?"  
  
* * *  
  
Blaise Zabini had finally been able to stop putting food on Harry Potter's plate because the boy was now reaching on his own for anything and everything. Blaise, having suddenly lost her appetite, was now just watching him. She liked his emerald colored eyes. They were pretty. His hair, however, was a VERY different matter. She supposed she'd have to show him to the washrooms so he could shower.  
  
Finally he seemed to be full and leaned back in his chair. He looked up at her with those green eyes.  
  
"Who're you?" he asked.  
  
"I'm Blaise Zabini." She answered. He nodded.  
  
There was a silence. Blaise suddenly felt oddly nervous as his green eyes bored into her. Her dark eyes returned the stare, and she felt a sudden weird thrill. A real staring opponent. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she stared him down.  
  
They stared at each other for a long time, gradually becoming aware that the other was not about to give up. Blaise's eyes widened as she realized this contest would not be over for a long time.  
  
Finally, a welcome distraction allowed the two to blink and look behind Harry.  
  
Or perhaps not so welcome.  
  
A pale boy with a pointed, sneering face and slick white-blonde hair was standing behind Harry. Blaise recognized him as Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, who was known in her family to be one of the few Death Eaters ever to be in the former Dark Lord's inner circle. Although Blaise's family had strove to be invited into the inner circle, not a member had achieved it.  
  
"/You're/ Harry Potter? You look you haven't heard the word, 'shampoo' before in your life." Malfoy sneered. Harry stared at him until he looked away. His eyes happened to land on Blaise. "Making friends with Half- bloods?"  
  
Blaise snarled at him, and for a moment both he and Harry looked taken aback; Blaise looked downright scary when she snarled.  
  
"Sucking up to Harry Potter, Malfoy? Trying to be friends? If you'd have read anything about him you'd know he's as much of a half-blood as I am!" she snapped. Malfoy scowled at her. "Truth hurts, doesn't it Malfoy?"  
  
"No more than looking at you." He retorted. Blaise feigned confusion.  
  
"Oh, so you don't care."  
  
It took a moment for Malfoy to work through what she said. She rolled her eyes.  
  
Malfoy glared once more at her before turning back to Harry.  
  
"You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." And he extended a hand.  
  
The whole school fell silent to watch.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry had only just met this Malfoy boy, as Blaise had called him, and he already disliked him. When Malfoy had insulted him he'd been angry. When Malfoy had insulted Blaise he'd been furious. When Malfoy had held out his hand that had been the last straw. Harry looked at Malfoy's outstretched hand, and placed his own in it. The whole school seemed to gasp as one. Malfoy looked extraordinarily pleased with himself. But Harry's stare had turned ice-cold and his grip tightened on Malfoy's hand. Malfoy had a split second to look shocked before Harry jerked the boy toward him and whispered in his ear quite loudly.  
  
"You'll do well not to insult me or any one I know while you are here, Malfoy. Remember that." And he released Malfoy's hand. Malfoy staggered back and fell on his rear, still staring, shocked, at Harry. "You don't REALLY think I would want to be friends with YOU?" Harry said, feigning an incredulous look. Malfoy glared at him before pulling himself up and returning to his seat after a last contemptuous look in his general direction. Malfoy taken care of, Harry turned back to look at Blaise, only to find her laughing silently.  
  
"That was great." She said. Harry watched her for a moment before doing something he hadn't done since he was a year old: he smiled. 


	2. Clean Harry and the Trip to Diagon Alley

Chapter 2 When the food had cleared away and the desserts had been consumed, the man who had brought Harry Potter to Hogwarts stood once more. He held his arms open, as though he couldn't be happier to see them, and smiled warmly.  
  
"Now that you are all fed and watered, I believe it is time for us all to rest; classes start tomorrow and schedules will be passed out at breakfast. Good night! Sleep tight, and don't let the bedbugs bite!"  
  
Harry sniggered. After he looked around, however, he noticed that most people were giving the man confused looks. He shrugged and rose.  
  
"D'you know where we're supposed to sleep at?" he asked Blaise. Blaise had risen too, and did not answer; she was overwhelmed with a huge yawn. When her yawn had passed she looked at Harry with bleary eyes and shrugged.  
  
"Dunno." She flicked a loose strand of her long dark hair away from her face, but it fell back into place. She flicked it again, and it returned again. As she continued flicking it, she smiled and giggled slightly. "This is fun." She said.  
  
"Slytherins this way." A boy with a surly look to him called out. The Slytherins followed him, and Harry was about to go with them he noticed that Blaise was still flicking her hair around. He hurried back to her. She giggled again.  
  
"Blaise!" he said. She ignored him. He sighed and reached out a hand. He caught hers, effectively bringing her attention up to him. She sobered up. He let her hand go and tucked the loose strand behind her ear. Then he took her arm and led her in the direction of the disappearing troop of Slytherins. As they hurried to catch up, Harry did not see Blaise staring at him, her face displaying her mixed emotions.  
  
At last they caught up to the line of Slytherins and were descending to the dungeons. Harry was suddenly aware that his hand was still on Blaise's arm. He let her arm go.  
  
They came to a dank corridor and stopped. The Slytherin Prefect (for that was what the surly boy was) looked expectantly at a wall. "Unicorn Blood." He said, and the wall shifted open.  
  
Harry and Blaise were the last ones in the common room, and everyone was already going to their dormitories. He collapsed on a couch, however, and sighed happily as he felt the couch's softness. He heard Blaise sink into an armchair across from his couch. He closed his eyes, and sleep took him.  
  
* * *  
  
Blaise Zabini watched Harry sleep. She watched his chest below the filthy rags of his clothes rise and fall. She watched his eyes flutter every now and then. She watched his mouth, parted slightly. She wore a little frown on her face as she watched him, as though she couldn't quite figure him out.  
  
"Oh shoot." She said out loud suddenly. She'd forgotten to tell Harry to take a shower. She held her breath as Harry's eyelashes fluttered, hoping he wouldn't wake up, but his eyes opened and she was faced with those green orbs again.  
  
"What?" he muttered.  
  
"Er, I kind of thought, that you might like to - to take a shower, you know, or something." She stumbled on her words. Harry seemed to ponder this for a moment, then a small smile crept across his face and he nodded, getting up from the couch. Blaise rose as well and stretched briefly. "I'm pretty sure I know where they are."  
  
Blaise led Harry up the stairs and past the seven dormitories for boys. She went to the end of the hall, and sure enough, there was the washroom.  
  
"Here it is." She said dramatically, gesturing to the door. Harry opened the door and peered inside. When he turned to thank Blaise, she was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
It was heaven, even more than the food. The water was so hot, and he could feel the grime being swept away from his filthy body. His "clothes" lay in a pile in the corner. He had a feeling, though, that he wouldn't want to wear them after this shower.  
  
As he let the water play over his skin, he looked around. There were two bottles, and he recognized what they were from his time at the Dursleys. He grabbed the clearer liquid and squeezed some out onto his hand. Then he tentatively put it in his hair.  
  
He never remembered scrubbing his hair harder.  
  
When he had finished scrubbing his hair he looked at his foamy fingers in disgust. The foam had turned black. He rinsed his hands and scrubbed all over again, and again, until finally the foam came away clean.  
  
And then he was finished. He reluctantly turned the water off and turned around. Ah, there they were. Towels. Fluffy green ones. He grabbed one and wrapped it around his waist. He still did not want to wear his rags.  
  
After a check around the room he noticed a pile of robes. Smiling, he hurried over to them and picked up the one on top. He knew by now that he did not have to pay for these things.  
  
He put on the robe and strode over to the mirror. His jaw dropped when he saw his reflection.  
  
The robe was flaming red, and it brought out his emerald eyes. His skin was clean and soft, and his hair . . . well, it was wet, but it looked far better and cleaner than it ever had.  
  
Remembering the times he could make something happen by will, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his hair drying. He felt a funny tingling on his scalp, and when it was gone he opened his eyes.  
  
He smiled at his reflection.  
  
* * *  
  
Blaise Zabini had been waiting for forty minutes. She was starting to think that Harry had drowned in the shower.  
  
So, at ten o'clock, she decided to go see if he had.  
  
She was just about to shove the door open when it opened by itself. She lost her balance and fell - right into Harry. He pushed her back onto her feet.  
  
"Sorry." She said and looked at his face - and nearly fainted from shock.  
  
His hair. It was clean. It reached his shoulders, board straight. A strand had fallen across his eye. And his skin was clean, and milky white. A ghost of a smile was hanging around his face as he watched her dumbstruck expression.  
  
"See something interesting?" he asked.  
  
"No, not much." She replied. He grinned.  
  
"Mutual."  
  
"Well, at least you aren't looking at a vampire."  
  
"At least you aren't looking at the devil."  
  
"Call me Diablo."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Haha! I win!"  
  
"You prat."  
  
* * *  
  
Severus Snape was sitting in his chambers, drinking a glass of scotch, still in shock.  
  
/But Harry Potter . . . Slytherin? No . . . I'm dreaming . . . yes, that's it . . . this is all a horrible dream . . ./  
  
But he knew he wasn't dreaming. And he had noticed something about that boy. He had practically been Lily Potter's replica. He had her nose, and her eyes, and her small frame, but there was someone else in there, who certainly wasn't James Potter . . . the high cheekbones, the board straight black hair . . .  
  
"Merlin's beard," Snape said aloud, dropping his goblet. It shattered. "He looks like me."  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore had noticed the same thing.  
  
Lily's eyes, frame, and nose. But the high cheekbones and hair belonged to someone else entirely. Someone who looked an awful lot like Severus Snape.  
  
Dumbledore frowned at himself. He knew that Lily and Severus had been good friends in their days. The two had been in the same year. Lily, he remembered with a fond smile, had been an over-achiever, determined to prove she was strong enough to handle whatever came her way. However, Potions was not easy. So old Professor Ailan had paired her up with Severus, the Potions whiz. The two were quick to become friends.  
  
Sometime in their years of friendship, it had evolved into something more.  
  
But in the end it was James whom Lily married, handsome, sweet-talking James Potter, and she and Severus went back to being friends.  
  
However, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, with her beautiful ring and perfect home, Dumbledore knew that Severus was the one she loved.  
  
And now, the youngest Potter was at Hogwarts, a Slytherin, looking very much like Severus. It didn't take a genius to figure out that at some point Lily and Severus had been more than friends one last time.  
  
He smiled to himself. Ah, young love.  
  
"Albus!" Dumbledore looked at the door.  
  
"Yes Severus?"  
  
"I need to talk to you!" And the door slammed open, revealing a very worried-looking Potions Master.  
  
"What ever is it Severus?" he asked, smiling, blue eyes twinkling merrily. Snape's eyes widened.  
  
"You saw it too!"  
  
"Saw what?" He answered. Snape drew himself up intimidatingly and scowled his fiercest scowl. But Dumbledore did not yield; he maintained a curious look, though his eyes betrayed him.  
  
"You know what I mean Albus." Snape hissed.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't, Severus. Please tell me."  
  
Snape growled.  
  
"If you want to poke fun at the possibility of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, being my son - MY son - then go ahead!"  
  
Dumbledore's expression grew serious. He leaned forward on his desk, folding his hands together and looking at the Potions Master over his half- moon spectacles.  
  
"You don't know that Severus. After all, perhaps his hair is too long to stick out like James' did. And besides, Lily's hair was fairly straight. And Lily's mother and sister both had high cheekbones. Perhaps we are overestimating the situation. After all, a year of living on the streets can change you." He gave Snape a look. Snape's sharp, fierce features suddenly melted away into grief.  
  
"I know, Albus. I know." /And it can kill you./ He wanted to say.  
  
"I beg you not to make a huge deal about this Severus. He may not be your child at all."  
  
"But what if he is?" Snape asked apprehensively. "Albus, what are we going to do about this?"  
  
"We have to - " Snape leaned forward. " - take Harry to buy his school supplies, first thing in the morning."  
  
"Albus!" Snape cried.  
  
"I am sorry Severus, but the boy needs his school supplies." Dumbledore said, the twinkle back in his eyes. "It's a necessity. You know that. Please Severus, try not to get your hopes up. Alright?"  
  
"Get my - what are you - hopes, indeed - " Snape spluttered.  
  
"Now, I would like for you to take Harry to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning. I will teach your potions classes for the day. Oh, and Severus? Be nice to Harry."  
  
* * *  
  
Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas were currently having a heated discussion in the Gryffindor common room.  
  
"But Seamus! Slytherin! He's a Slytherin!" Ron Weasley, sixth member of the Weasley bunch and owning the characteristic red hair and freckles, whispered fiercely.  
  
"Oh shut up Ron. He's Harry Potter!" Dean Thomas, a tall muggle born black boy, replied.  
  
"Yeah Ron, give him a chance." Seamus Finnigan, a short Irish boy, shot back at the Weasley kid.  
  
"That's like saying give Malfoy a chance!"  
  
Hermione Granger, another muggle born first year, was sitting in the corner, reading her textbook. When she happened to overhear the boys' conversation, she just had to put in her word. She dropped her book on her seat to save it and strode over to the boys.  
  
"I think that you are being selfish. And biased." She said matter-of-factly to Ron Weasley. He looked up.  
  
"And I think you're eavesdropping. Go away."  
  
"You really should give Harry Potter a chance, Ronald Weasley." She replied doggedly. He glared at her.  
  
"Why don't you!"  
  
"Alright, I will." She replied and turned on her heel. Ron snorted.  
  
"She won't do it."  
  
How wrong he was.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, Harry walked into the Great Hall with Blaise. He liked her company; she was witty and intelligent, and loved conversations. They'd had a long talk about the magical world just that morning; every time Harry had a question, Blaise had an answer.  
  
They sat down at "their" corner. And promptly dug in.  
  
They had been up since dawn, and now as people filed in, clean Harry received many stares.  
  
And then, halfway through breakfast, the weirdest thing happened.  
  
"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."  
  
* * *  
  
Blaise recognized her as the girl she'd stared down the night before. She stared at her now.  
  
Harry turned slowly to face the girl. He stared at her for a moment. After seeming to size her up, he spoke.  
  
"I'm Harry Potter."  
  
* * *  
  
A piece of steak had just fallen from Ron Weasley's mouth.  
  
"Seamus, Dean! Look over there!" he caught their attention. They looked, and food fell from their mouths as well.  
  
Hermione Granger was talking to Harry Potter. At the Slytherin table.  
  
* * *  
  
She looked intelligent enough to Harry. Her bushy hair was tangled and unbrushed, a good sign that she wasn't the prissy kind. And besides, there was a book tucked under her arm.  
  
"I'm Blaise." Harry heard his friend say. He looked at her; she was slightly smiling. Apparently, if Harry liked her, she was worth Blaise's time.  
  
"Sit down." Harry invited her. Hermione smiled at him and sat down to his right, placing her book on the table.  
  
The Slytherins were not happy.  
  
Albus Dumbledore was.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter with a passion. First he'd insulted him and refused his friendship, and then he'd had that Mudblood sit down! At the Slytherin table! It was probably the first time anything like that had happened in the history of Hogwarts! And he was angry.  
  
He would get Potter.  
  
* * *  
  
"Yes, lessons start today, I can't wait," Hermione was saying excitedly. Her enthusiasm had rubbed off on both Harry and Blaise, and they were grinning.  
  
"So, have you memorized the textbooks yet?" Blaise teased her.  
  
"Oh, not all of them. I've gone through all of them but the only things that really stick in my mind are Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions." Hermione looked dejected. Harry laughed.  
  
"Blaise was kidding, Hermione." He explained.  
  
"Oh." Hermione replied and reddened.  
  
"Harry Potter." A clipped voice said from behind him. Harry's smile vanished as he turned around. There was a tall man standing there, with sallow skin and long black hair almost like Harry's own. He was sneering, and his black eyes were cold. "Come with me."  
  
And with that the man turned and went for the exit. Harry turned back to Hermione and Blaise.  
  
"Well, I'll see you soon Hermione, Blaise." He gave them each a small smile as he snatched a few extra rolls and shoved them in the pocket of his borrowed robe. He turned to go, but on second thought turned back and stuffed a few cookies in his other pocket. Blaise was laughing. "What? I might get hungry."  
  
* * *  
  
Severus Snape had explained to the boy that they were leaving for Diagon Alley to buy his supplies, since he hadn't the decency to buy his own earlier. He knew that Potter already did not like him, and encouraged the fact. And now they were about to travel by Floo powder.  
  
"What do I do?" The boy asked shortly. Snape sighed and snatched a bunch of the powder, throwing it in the fire. The flames turned emerald green, and Potter leapt back, surprised.  
  
"Well, get in!" Snape snapped. Potter turned cold green eyes on him before stepping into the fire. "The Leaky Cauldron." Snape supplied.  
  
And, in a flurry of green and red, the boy was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
Out of instinct, Harry kept all limbs very close. As he passed by several grates he caught glimpses of people sitting by their fireplaces. But when soot began to fill his eyes he closed them.  
  
Finally he slammed to a halt and was thrown out of the fireplace onto the ground. He pulled himself up immediately and whirled around, looking at his new surroundings. He was in a grubby little pub with no one except the barkeeper in it. The barkeeper was giving him a funny look.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be in school, young man?" the old man asked, his lack of all intact teeth showing. The man moved closer, squinting at Harry's forehead, where the odd, lightning bolt shaped scar resided. Harry didn't answer him, and was actually a bit relieved when the black-eyed man walked out of the fireplace behind him. "Ah, Mr. Snape, a pleasure to see you." The barkeeper said hurriedly, though his expression told that he wasn't. Snape (for Harry wasn't about to call him 'Mr.', not even in his own mind) sneered and ushered Harry out of the shop.  
  
* * *  
  
One brick wall, one trip to Gringotts, several sets of robes, a lot of nasty-looking potions supplies, a pewter cauldron, and several school textbooks with weird names later, they were at the last shop. Snape had been less than patient with Harry the entire time, and Harry was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts.  
  
In chipping gold letters over the door an old sign read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Snape practically shoved Harry in.  
  
Harry stood and waited for a moment, looking around at the rows upon rows of boxes. /They must hold wands/, Harry thought.  
  
"Good afternoon." A voice just behind Harry came suddenly. Harry whirled around to see an old man standing there, pale moon-like eyes watching him. Harry stayed silent. He merely narrowed his eyes at the man. "Ah, Harry Potter. I wondered why you did not come for your wand with the other children." The man peered more closely at Harry's eyes. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday that she was in here herself, buying her wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. An excellent wand for charm work. Your father on the other hand favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and nice for Transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Throughout his speech the man, whom Harry suspected was Ollivander, had been moving closer to Harry. Now he was so close that Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.  
  
"And that's where . . ." Ollivander touched the scar on Harry's forehead with one white finger. Harry narrowed his eyes. He didn't like it when people touched him. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands . . . well, if I'd known what that wand was going out in the world to do . . ." Harry was confused, but he didn't let on to Ollivander. Never show your weakness.  
  
He shook his head. Then he spotted Snape.  
  
"Snape! Severus Snape! How . . . nice . . . to see you again. Ebony, unicorn tail hair, twelve and three quarters inches, wasn't it? Wonderful for hexes and curses."  
  
"Yes." Snape replied. Ollivander gave him a piercing look before turning back to Harry. "Well now, Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Hold out your arm." And he measured Harry from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round his head. As he measured he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."  
  
Ollivander had stopped measuring Harry and was now searching around in the boxes. He took down an armful.  
  
"Right then. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."  
  
Harry took the light wand and waved it once. Nothing happened, and Ollivander snatched it out of his hand.  
  
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy."  
  
Harry tried it, but it too was taken away.  
  
"No, no - here, rosewood and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy."  
  
Harry waved. And he waved. He knew what Ollivander was waiting for, Blaise had told him, and he was growing more restless each wand. What if there wasn't a single wand that would fit him?  
  
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find - " but Ollivander didn't get to finish his sentence, for suddenly near the back of the shop there was a rattling sound. Harry looked. He could just make out a greenish silver glow. All of a sudden he felt a need to go there, and he raced around Ollivander to the back of the shop. He picked up a box that was rattling and glowing. He opened the lid - and dropped the box. A wand, long and dark and sleek, had risen into the air. He held out his hand and the wand landed in it. He felt a fierce warmth, and brought the wand down. A stream of green, gold, silver, and red sparks shot out of the end of the wand. The spark went off like fireworks and spread around the shop.  
  
When the sparks had died away, Harry looked down at the wand in his hand, grinning. He had a wand. But he didn't remember Blaise telling him that the wand would rise out of the box.  
  
He turned around to find both Ollivander and Snape watching him in astonishment. His grin faded.  
  
"What?" he scowled. Ollivander snapped out of it and took his wand, wrapping it and handing it back to him. Harry took ten gold galleons from his pocket and gave them to Ollivander.  
  
He and Snape returned to the Leaky Cauldron with no words wasted between them, though Snape gave Harry quite a few funny looks, and Floo-ed back to Hogwarts.  
  
Review answers:  
  
Like with my other story I will answer reviews, and I am very, very sorry that this chapter took so long to get out.  
  
ER: Okay. I will.  
  
Kitty: heh heh . . . Hey, my friend's name is Kitty . . .  
  
Gretch: Thanks!  
  
Hi: Are you stalking me?  
  
Lokia: Well, Blaise is a main character, and Hermione's pretty close to Harry too. Ron will be a prat for a while. But he'll come around.  
  
Amanda: Harry doesn't yet, but he will soon. Blaise is going to tell him eventually.  
  
Cory: Magic words? You mean Wingardium Leviosa.  
  
Leann Meanlock: K, I'll email you!  
  
Huntress Angel: I believe your question has been answered.  
  
Sk8reagle: Well, I'll tell eventually. May take a while.  
  
Tima: Thanks!  
  
Rachel: Hi again!  
  
Xava: You're welcome.  
  
DaBear: Taking this story far.  
  
Goth-thug: I'm sorry it took so long!  
  
Ani: I like Slytherin Harry too.  
  
Tigerlily: Well, the name's sort of angsty. It's Latin for Point, Spike, Body.  
  
Mell: Um, what sort of ambition should Harry have? I know he needs it, but . . .  
  
Hiya Tay: Murdered? By Voldemort? ::confused face:: But he was with me all day - oops. Was I supposed to say that?  
  
Rachel: Well, now ya saw whether or not Harry met Ron and Hermione. Unless you want me to speak cryptically, you're in the dark about the future of the fic. And yes, Snape's Daughter will be updated soon. Should I change the name? It's kind of stupid.  
  
I Stalk Snape on Weekends: Hey! What a coincidence! I stalk Voldemort all the time!  
  
Shizu: Thank ya, thank ya  
  
Daman: Thank you! I love you! But what sort of things should Harry be ambitious about? Some help!  
  
Sarah: Thanks!  
  
Wolviesgal: Yay! Thanks!  
  
Carey Miles: Ah! Thanks! I'm glad you like both of my stories!  
  
Ani: I know! He's like my dream guy or something!  
  
Tiddles: Sorry this took so long. ::looks ashamed::  
  
Fizzysoda: Aw! Thanks!  
  
Kitty: I think the guy for Lupin makes a very good Lupin. Hey, in one story I read Lupin had black hair! Come on!  
  
Jo: Thanks!  
  
Charlie Girl: ::bursts with happiness::  
  
Kaat ShadowLover: Oh Thanks! Yeah, Blaise is going to be a main character. Harry's Slytherin friend. Yup. Oh, and something brings them WAY closer (perhaps closer than they'd like) quite soon. Not sure how everyone will react, but . . .  
  
Kitala: Yay! I love your name!  
  
Katy999: Yes, yes, I know. More of that soon too.  
  
Anon: I will!  
  
Rickman's Girl: Oh my butterbeers! You put me in your favorites? ::faints from shock and happiness::  
  
Mikee: Yay!  
  
Prophetess of Hearts: ::joins the cheering::  
  
Fortissimo: Well . . . erm . . . not exactly a snape/harry slash fic, I mean, Snape's Harry's dad, come on. But Snape plays a fairly large part.  
  
Majandra: Thanks! Your English is good, and I'm glad you like my story!  
  
Nagini: Er . . . ::looks away sheepishly:: oh well, I thought Blaise should be a girl. Better than making up a new character.  
  
Redone: Sorry but they had to see that Dumbly-dorr was trying to find Harry. And that's not the strange Latin. The incantation before it is.  
  
Muggle: Thanks! Glad you aren't the typical muggle. Okay, stupid joke, I know. I'm hopeless and stupid.  
  
For my other story you guys help me on choices now, but I have this one planned out for quite a while. Sorry! ( 


	3. Sadira the Snake and Harry's New Ability

"Get to your class Potter." Snape snapped at him when they'd returned to the empty Great Hall.  
  
"I don't know what my class is, SIR." Harry scowled back, putting emphasis on the word sir. Snape snarled and reached inside his black robes, which seemed to billow out a lot. He handed a timetable to Harry and walked past him down the corridor and out of sight.  
  
Harry looked down at the timetable. It said that he was supposed to be in Potions just now, but it was ending in fifteen minutes. So he took his stuff down to the Slytherin common room and to his dorm, and unpacked.  
  
By the time he was finished he had ten minutes left. He shrugged and decided to go outside, since his next class was Herbology. He thought about waiting for Blaise, but ruled that out when he saw that it was Snape who taught Potions. So he wandered through the corridor and out the front door.  
  
The wind was fresh and cold. He liked it. He strolled across the grounds to where he could see the greenhouses. He stopped several yards away from the greenhouses and sat down cross-legged, waiting for class to end.  
  
"Sssstupid human, get out of my way!"  
  
Harry jumped; he'd heard a voice to his right. He looked, but he didn't see anyone.  
  
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" The voice roared. Harry glanced down. In the grass was a snake, no more than a garter snake, charcoal gray with a green diamond pattern running along its back.  
  
"Excuse me, but I was here first!" He answered it angrily. He was surprised when the snake lifted its triangular head to look at him.  
  
"Did you jusssst sssspeak to me?" It said - no, Harry realized, it hissed.  
  
"Uh . . . I suppose." He replied, and was shocked when he heard his voice to be a hiss as well.  
  
"You sssspeak! A human who sssspeakssss! Incredible!" The snake sounded more shocked than he.  
  
"I didn't know that I could." Harry said truthfully. The snake looked at him.  
  
"But you can. Amazzzzing!"  
  
"Okay, I get it." Harry said, starting feel slightly annoyed.  
  
"I have never come acrossss a human who sssspeakssss in my life!"  
  
"OKAY!" Harry yelled. It stopped hissing.  
  
"If you wissshhh for me to leave, I ssshhhall." And it turned to go.  
  
"No wait!"  
  
The snake turned back.  
  
"Yessss?"  
  
"Stay. I would like to speak with you." Harry pleaded. The snake nodded - an odd thing for a snake to do - and settled in the grass beside Harry. "Are you male or female?" Harry asked first.  
  
"I am female." The snake answered. "What are you?"  
  
"I am a male. What is your name?"  
  
"Name?"  
  
"You know, what do other snakes call you?"  
  
"They call me Ssssadira."  
  
"Sadira? That is a pretty name."  
  
"Yessss . . . I ssssupposssse. What issss your . . . name?"  
  
"My name? My name is Harry Potter."  
  
"Harry Potter . . ."  
  
"Can I give you a nickname?"  
  
"Nick . . . name?"  
  
"A shorter version of your name."  
  
" . . . If you wissshhh."  
  
"I think I'll call you Sadie."  
  
"Ssssadie?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Ssssadie."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Harry looked up from his conversation with his newfound friend to see a class of first years at the doors to Hogwarts. It was time for Herbology.  
  
"Sadie." He hissed, turning back to the little snake.  
  
"Yessss?"  
  
"For some reason I don't think the Slytherins or the teacher would appreciate me having a snake buddy to talk to in class."  
  
"You wissshhh for me to leave?"  
  
"No! I just need to hide you till later . . ."  
  
"Oh." Sadie said, and then began slithering up Harry's leg. Then she went to his wrist. She slid under the sleeve of his robe and up his arm until she reached his biceps, at which point she curled around his arm and laid her head down.  
  
"Well done." Harry whispered to his sleeve. Though Sadie didn't say anything, he felt her tongue flick across his skin.  
  
He rose up off the grass in time to meet Blaise.  
  
"Where were you? I thought Snape had kidnapped you. My brother told me about Snape, and he said he likes to eat first years, and that he's a greasy old vampire, but I don't believe him." Blaise said, with a worried expression on her face. Harry smiled at her description of Snape.  
  
"No, actually, Snape took me to get my things in Diagon Alley." He informed her. Blaise looked relieved.  
  
"Good. Now you actually have a wand. It's dangerous without a wand."  
  
"Harry Potter?" a voice suddenly came from under Harry's sleeve. He looked down; so did Blaise.  
  
"What's up your sleeve Harry?" she asked.  
  
"Sadie." He replied. She gave him a look that clearly said she thought he belonged in an insane asylum.  
  
"Sadie?"  
  
"Yes. Would you like me to introduce her to you?" he grinned slyly and reached up his sleeve. He caught hold of Sadie and gently pulled her down off his arm. When he brought her out into the air, Blaise gasped.  
  
"That's a snake Harry!"  
  
It was Harry's turn to give her the look.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Harry Potter!" Sadie repeated. Harry placed her on the outside of his sleeve.  
  
"Yes?" He hissed. Blaise gasped. "What?" he asked her.  
  
"You - you - you're a Parselmouth!"  
  
"I'm a what?"  
  
"A Parselmouth! You can talk to snakes!"  
  
"Well of course I can. How else did I get one up my sleeve?"  
  
"But - but - "  
  
"Hold on a second Blaise." He said and returned to Sadie.  
  
"You were saying?"  
  
"Can I give you a nick name?"  
  
"Um, sure."  
  
"Can I call you Hare Potty?"  
  
Harry laughed out loud. Hare Potty?  
  
"I would prefer you didn't, Sadie." He hissed through his laughter.  
  
"Then what can I call you?"  
  
"You can call me Harry."  
  
* * *  
  
Luckily the other Slytherins had left Blaise and Harry to themselves and hadn't heard a word of Parseltongue. But Blaise only managed to stop spluttering when Professor Sprout began the lesson.  
  
The only other class Harry hadn't missed of the day was History of Magic. He'd brought Sadie into the school with him, and he'd conversed very quietly with her the whole time.  
  
Eventually, as he learned to tune out Binns' drawling tone, Harry took a scroll of parchment out from his book bag. He also took out a quill, wetted it with ink, and moved his quill over the parchment.  
  
In a few seconds a rough image of Sadie was hissing at him. Harry was vaguely surprised. He hadn't drawn in a long time, and that had been with a stub of coal, but he apparently still had the talent for it. He smiled.  
  
It was only an outline. And Harry would have filled in the shading and muscles and skin pattern, but he knew he would need to look at her. Instead he moved a ways down the scroll and cast his eyes around the room. They landed on the person sitting next to him; Blaise. She was sleeping soundly. Her mouth was parted slightly, and several strands of straight dark hair had come loose from its ponytail and were scattered over her face. Harry cleared his mind, focusing on Blaise. As his quill drifted over the parchment, he looked back and forth from Blaise to his parchment.  
  
Eventually he was finished, and he looked at his scroll. He was surprised at the results. His quill seemed to have captured her sleepiness. Her eyes looked about to flutter open.  
  
"Wow Harry!" he heard a feminine voice breath just beside him. He jumped and looked at a now very awake Blaise guiltily. "You're good at drawing!"  
  
She took the scroll from his hand and looked at Sadie's outline. Then she looked at herself, and her mouth formed a small "o" of surprise. She handed it back to him, giving him a strange look.  
  
Harry was rather relieved when class ended.  
A/N: Sorry it's short, but oh well.  
  
Reviews:  
  
Lokia: And just what do you not like about 'Mione? I like the book version very much, thanks. Why do you want Hermione to shut up? And besides, I don't think the idea of Draco being all nice is very realistic at all. Pansy is going to be still a jerk, but Draco is too. What makes you think Draco would be nice to Harry after Harry's dumped his request to be 'friends'?  
  
Life: Whoever said I'd come to your funeral? bg I'm just kidding. I'll go and put flowers on your grave.  
  
Kitala: They probably won't find out for a while. Snape has a pretty good idea and so does Dumbledore, but eventually there'll be a spell or potion or something that'll reveal the truth. Any ideas?  
  
t.a.g.: Glad you're looking forward to see what happens!  
  
Katy999: No, he has the wand with Fawkes' feather, it just really really wanted to get with him, really really fast.  
  
Kitty: Well, wands don't react like that. Is that what you mean? They don't usually jump (figure of speech) at their owner. They just wait. Harry's wand was way way way way way overexcited.  
  
Nora Charles: Thanks.  
  
Futon: I don't really know yet what was up with the letter being late. I think maybe something happened to Harry (the reason he ran away) that made him unable to keep track of, you know, so that Dumbledore didn't know he was gone, and maybe they had to use a really complex tracking spell to find him to send the owl to him. Then once the owl found him the spell was all broken and Dumbledore could find him by using that spell (which is very lame I know).  
  
,(): My god! How could you even THINK that I would slash Harry in this story? I like reading slash sometimes, but while I could never write it, I wouldn't want to.  
  
Prophetess of Hearts: Yes, it's the wand with Fawkes' feather. For Potions and stuff that's hands-on Harry'll have to do something with his hair . . . any ideas? Maybe Blaise should make him cut it to shoulder length. Something like that. And yes, Harry will be able to do some wandless magic, it just won't come into play for a while.  
  
Kelley: What's strange about the sparks is that they're Slytherin and Gryffindor colors. And that's not why Snape and Ollivander were looking at him funny. They were doing that because his wand had not only rattled furiously but also levitated by itself.  
  
Rickman's Girl: I'm sorry. I'll update on Saturdays or maybe Sundays if I have to.  
  
Floramorada: Thanks!  
  
LunarMist DarknessEclipse: Strange name. I like it. Harry will do pretty darn well in classes, you'll see.  
  
Carey Miles: Thank ya! I think Hermione and Harry should be friends. Thanks to Ron! Yup. And my first impression was that Blaise was a girl. I mean, otherwise it's be all boys in Slytherin first years except Pansy and Millicent.  
  
Reanne080: Thanks! Updating every Saturday (or Sunday when I need to type fast of Saturdays).  
  
Knot2be: ::blushes furiously:: thanks. I think that the Dursleys let him shower once every two weeks or something, and use cheap soap, but not shampoo. And I like Harry's streets-attitude too. I thought Snape would be pretty shocked. I mean, it's like if you saw a Weasley that looked like Lord Voldemort.  
  
Majandra: Is it a prescription drug? I don't want to be illegal . . . . Thanks!  
  
ER: Thanks. I always pictured Blaise as a girl too.  
  
Fizzysoda: Is that a compliment? 


	4. Don't kill me!:: The Bonding

Harry and Blaise walked with Hermione to the Great Hall for dinner (Harry had left Sadie in his trunk to avoid possible snake hungriness). Hermione talked nonstop about classes and the fascinating things they'd learned all the way through the corridors and the two Slytherins listened, adding in comments when Hermione stopped for breath. All three of them were discussing the theory of Transfiguration by the time they sat down - Hermione sat at the Slytherin table again.  
  
Halfway through the meal, Harry glanced up at the Staff Table. For the first time he noticed a strange teacher in rusty purple robes and a white turban. He couldn't see the man's face; his back was turned. Harry peered to the man's left to see Snape. He was about to scowl when it happened.  
  
Snape looked away from the man in the turban - right at Harry. Harry felt a sudden flash of pain streak through his scar. He flinched very slightly at the sudden, intense pain, and resisted the urge to clamp a hand over his scar - he merely stared Snape down.  
  
But Snape didn't seem to be looking away, even though the pain had ebbed away. Harry and Snape fought a silent fight, green eyes versus black.  
  
Harry could almost picture it in his head, like an announcer from one of those ridiculous wrestling games Dudley used to watch on the television. "And ebony seems to be putting up a good fight over unbeaten champion emerald. Neither seems to be backing down. Can ebony be emerald's match? Can someone else at last truly challenge emerald? Nah, I'm just hallucinating, had a little much to drink . . ."  
  
Harry snickered and broke the stare, pointedly returning to his food. He looked up to see Blaise and Hermione pouring over a very thick, heavy book. Every once in a while they would giggle and turn the page.  
  
"Good joke book?" Harry asked. Hermione and Blaise both jumped and looked back up at Harry. He watched in amazement as both of them turned bright red. "Apparently so."  
  
"Um, yeah, jokes. Funny ones."  
  
Harry raised one black eyebrow. The girls blushed darker and Hermione quickly closed the book, almost slamming it on Blaise's green and silver scarf. Blaise wrenched her scarf away from Hermione. Hermione gave a little nervous giggle and tucked the book under her seat.  
  
* * *  
  
Blaise and Harry parted ways with Hermione at the staircases. As they walked down to the dungeons, Harry's mind returned to what Ollivander had said . . . "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it . . ."  
  
Did what?  
  
When everyone had cleared out of the common room, Harry turned to Blaise so abruptly she started.  
  
"Blaise. Why does everyone stare at my forehead?" he asked bluntly. Blaise stared at him for a moment, before her eyes too went to his scar. Then she turned away and fidgeted uncomfortably.  
  
"Erm, it's a very long story . . ." she mumbled.  
  
"Tell me Blaise." He said.  
  
"But surely it can wait . . ."  
  
"Please." He pleaded. She looked up at him. He was pleading with her.  
  
"Ehm . . . Alright. A long time ago, there was a wizard. One who went bad. Very bad. As bad as you can go. His name was Voldemort."  
  
"Voldemort? But that means "wings of death" in Latin." Harry interjected. Blaise nodded.  
  
"Yes, it does. Voldemort was not the wizard's real name, of course. I don't know what his real name was, but that's really not the point. Anyway, it was about twenty years ago that Voldemort started looking for followers. And he got them - some were afraid of him and didn't want to die, because he'd kill them if they said no, see. And some wanted a bit of his power. He was getting quite powerful by then. He was taking over. Some good wizards and witches stood up to him. He killed them. One of the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Everybody says Dumbledore's the only one Voldemort was afraid of.  
  
"I've heard people say that your mum and dad, Lily and James Potter, were Head boy and Head girl at Hogwarts. They were apparently very nice people - I wouldn't know, I wasn't even a year old when they died."  
  
"My parents died in a car crash." Harry put in. Blaise froze and gaped at him.  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"My. Parents. Died. In. A. Car. Crash." Harry repeated slowly.  
  
"No they didn't!" Blaise nearly yelled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Voldemort killed them!"  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"Yes! He wanted them on his side, because they were good at magic, but they refused, so he went after them! It was on Halloween, almost eleven years ago, and you were only a year old, like me. Lord Voldemort turned up the village - Godric's Hollow - which you and your parents were living in. He killed them. And he tried to kill you - but somehow the curse rebounded off you and left you with that scar. The curse hit him and killed him." Blaise finished in a rush. Harry stared openmouthed at her.  
  
"Voldemort tried to kill . . . me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And I . . . survived?"  
  
"What's it look like to you?"  
  
"But my parents didn't?"  
  
Blaise immediately softened. Harry looked very lost and shocked. She stood up from her place next to the dim fire and sat beside Harry. She placed an arm around him.  
  
"No, they didn't, Harry. I'm sorry." She whispered and laid her head on his shoulder. She felt him shudder violently and pulled away quickly. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine." Harry turned his emerald eyes on her, but they seemed different somehow . . . haunted. She shivered slightly.  
  
"Why do you sit where it's cold?" She asked, rubbing her arms.  
  
"I don't know. Habit. I never got to sit anywhere near the fire at the Dursleys." He said quietly. "Are you cold?"  
  
"A bit." She replied, even though she was very cold indeed.  
  
Harry scooted a tiny bit closer to her and wrapped one arm around her.  
  
Too shocked to do anything, she sat rigidly.  
  
"Better?" he asked softly, his breath playing on her ear. She nodded stiffly.  
  
After a moment she relaxed and leaned against Harry. An awkward pause followed.  
  
"What were the Dursleys like?" she asked to fill the space.  
  
"Awful." Harry said, and proceeded to tell her many horrible things, like the chores he had to do, his cupboard, and many other awful things. Then he told her he had run away the year before and lived on the streets since.  
  
"I can see why you brought moldy cheese to the Sorting, then." She said, and giggled. Harry laughed softly beside her.  
  
She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he hardly even noticed when she fell right asleep.  
  
* * *  
  
When Blaise woke up at dawn the next morning, she was surprised to find herself leaning against Harry. She didn't move and kept her breath slow and steady. She carefully looked up.  
  
Harry was sitting stock still, green eyes focused on the stone wall above the empty fireplace. He seemed very preoccupied.  
  
"Harry?" she whispered up to him. He seemed to shake himself and looked down at her.  
  
"Good morning." He said softly. She smiled.  
  
"Morning. Did you sleep at all?"  
  
"No, I . . ." he looked off at the wall again, eyes clouding over. "I don't think I did."  
  
"Oh Harry." She wrapped both arms around him and gave a bone-crushing hug. He tentatively returned the favor.  
  
Blaise didn't want to move. It was very warm. And very nice to be hugged. Her parents hadn't hugged her since she was nine, and that was only because . . .  
  
Blaise pulled away from Harry suddenly, her hand going to her right biceps. She closed her eyes from the sudden pain. She knew Harry was staring at her in surprise, but she locked eyes with the cold floor.  
  
"Blaise?" he asked. She shook her head slightly. He scooted a touch closer to her and her fingers tightened around her biceps. "Blaise." He whispered in her ear. She relaxed a little. Then Harry's warm fingers closed over her own and lifted them away.  
  
"Harry, don't! NO! You can't - " she cried and tried quite valiantly to escape, but Harry had pulled away the robes and now her arm was exposed. Blaise began to cry silently as she struggled to free herself.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry stared at Blaise's arm, at the dark ink that contrasted shockingly with her milky white skin. It was a tattoo that she had been clutching. In the blackest of black ink, a snake, long and thin, was drawn into her flesh. It was hissing, a black tongue flicking out. The snake's eyes glowed red. And there, behind the snake, was a skull, drawn in the bluest of indigoes, empty eye sockets wide and staring. The snake seemed to be coiled around the skull.  
  
Then, as Harry watched, the snake blinked. It moved, almost experimentally, and flicked its tongue several times. Then the glowing red eyes found his. The snake hissed, almost in pleasure. Then it uncoiled itself from the skull.  
  
Harry leaned closer to Blaise's struggling arm. The snake seemed to reach out of Blaise's skin.  
  
Harry, against every instinct that told him to shove the sleeve onto the snake tattoo, reached out a finger and touched the snake's body.  
  
And then the snake, so fast Harry could hardly see it, shot out from Blaise's skin, leaving a large white patch where the tattoo was, and melted onto Harry's skin.  
  
Harry leapt back in surprise, crying out. The snake seemed to have settled around his finger, but then it began to slither up his wrist. Harry cried out again; it felt like his skin was being ripped up. And it was: wherever the snake slithered it left a shocked white patch. When the snake finally curled up near his biceps, the white line had begun to bleed.  
  
Harry looked up at Blaise. She was sobbing dryly, hands covering her face. Harry saw the patch where the snake had been was bleeding in torrents now.  
  
"Blaise, what . . ." he asked. She looked up through tear-blurred eyes at him.  
  
"Why Harry? Why? Why couldn't you just . . . leave it alone." She whispered, looking down at her feet again.  
  
"What happened?" Harry asked more urgently.  
  
"Now he'll know, and it'll all be bad, and I've ruined your life, and . . ."  
  
"BLAISE!" Harry yelled. She looked up at him. "/What happened/?"  
  
"We're bonded."  
  
"We're what-ed?"  
  
"Bonded."  
  
"Okay . . . that's supposed to be a good thing, right?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"No." Blaise's eyes filled again as she whispered. "This is not binding by soul-mates. This -" she faltered. "This snake was branded onto me by Lucius Malfoy -"  
  
"Not Draco's father?"  
  
"The very one. It was branded on three other children and me when we were all nine. Lucius led a band of rogue Death Eaters, see, even though Voldemort was gone, and he wanted to keep the old Mudblood killings going. This tattoo showed our enslavement to him and, if Voldemort ever came back, we would be enslaved to him as well. That's what the skull is for. The snake doesn't come out of the skull's mouth, as the Dark Mark would - "  
  
"Dark Mark?"  
  
"Enslavement to Voldemort. This snake is different, and it can move. The bond works like this: the first person I show my mark to, and that the snake sees, it moves onto their skin. This creates the bond. I keep the skull, you keep the snake. The bond was originally to be used for getting in formation. See, within a few hours of bonding, we'll be able to read each other's minds."  
  
"How is this a bad thing?"  
  
"Oh Harry," Blaise cried. "We're bound together for life. You will never be able to kill me, but I'll be able to kill you. Our wands will never work against each other. You will never be able to physically hurt me, but I will be able to hurt you. We'll each have some control over the other. But Harry, if something specific doesn't happen in five years' time, you'll die."  
  
* * *  
  
"What's supposed to happen?" Harry asked urgently after a moment's shocked silence.  
  
"I don't know." Blaise admitted. "We were told that they would inform us when we bound someone to us. Oh Harry, if I hadn't put my hand on my arm you wouldn't have seen this and we wouldn't be bound and you wouldn't die in five years! It's all my fault!" she sobbed. Harry gathered her up in his arms.  
  
"Don't cry Blaise. I have a feeling that I'm better off bound to you than Draco Malfoy." He said. She managed a weak laugh.  
  
"Malfoy wasn't one of them. The other three were Cepheus Major, Alada Avery, and Caelum Nott. Draco still hates me because I was chosen by his own father over him."  
  
"Who're those other three? Major, Avery, and Nott?" he asked, still holding her tightly.  
  
"Three other first year Slytherins. Major always seems really quiet and subdued. Nott is the ladies' man of . . . well, probably the century. Avery is the snootiest Slytherin I've ever met, and I've met plenty thanks to my mother's parties."  
  
"Your mother's parties?" Harry asked. He felt Blaise shudder.  
  
"Dark Revels. Even though Voldemort's gone, the Death Eaters that are still loyal like to kidnap Muggles and sometimes Mudbloods and torture them. My mother is a pureblood and a Death Eater. Evita Zabini."  
  
"And your father?"  
  
"Dead." Blaise said flatly. "Mother killed him at one of her parties."  
  
"Oh." Harry responded, surprised.  
  
"Mother hates me," Blaise continued. "I'm half-blood, and her own kin. She thinks I'm a disgrace. I hate living with her. I was so damn excited to come to Hogwarts and get away from all that, but as soon as I got here I was put in Slytherin with gits like Malfoy who I have to keep up my guard around."  
  
Harry didn't reply but merely hugged her tighter.  
  
"Blaise." He whispered on her ear.  
  
"What?" she whispered back.  
  
"Go to sleep."  
  
And she did.  
  
A/N: Did ya like it? I don't know how you'll take the whole bonded thing, but I hope you like it . . . any ideas for what has to happen in five years? Any at all? I'm clueless.  
  
I'm sorry, but ff.net wasn't working Saturday! I'm late! Agh! And THEN yesterday I could log in but every time I loaded the document it came up as blank when I went to load it on the story! AGH! ::runs off pulling hair out:: I'm so sorry!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Serapotter: ::cringes:: do you still like it?  
  
Lokia: I see your point . . . well, I am thoroughly glad that I didn't bond Harry to Hermione (which I think is VERY VERY wrong by the way), or I'd have a very angry reviewer to respond too.  
  
t.a.g: Mmm, I dunno, I kind of pictured Snape as . . . well, I don't know, only favoring a few Slytherins, or something. I don't know, it's odd. Something like that.  
  
Life: Really? The coolest? ::blushes crimson:: thanks!  
  
Carey Miles: Well, I don't think anybody else is going to find out about Harry's Parselmouth-iness until Chamber of Secrets . . . whoa . . . do you think I'll even get that far with this fic?  
  
Kitty: Hmm . . . Harry's goodness at drawing will not be that important to the plot, but eventually it'll play a part I guess . . . haven't really figured it out yet.  
  
Katy999: Snape doesn't currently hate Harry, he just doesn't really know how to react, you know. This may be his son, but he doesn't want to start to like him because what if Harry isn't his son? Snape just doesn't know how to act yet.  
  
Momma-dar: Thanks!  
  
Phoenix Flight: I like Sadie too . . . she was a good creation of mine . . .  
  
Kitala: Lol. Agreed. I've been writing the next chapter during math . . . got called on and didn't know the answer. ::blushes::  
  
Rebma: Thanks!  
  
Rachel: How do you know what color my towels are? And I dunno . . . I have a thing where Ron is always a prat. Bleh . . .  
  
Rachel: Well, Blaise is a guys name in French or Italian or something, but I dunno. My first impression was a girl. Blaise's brother? Haven't given him much thought. He'll come in later, I suppose. Yeah, instead of Hedwig there's Sadie. And yeah, he drew Blaise! He's so sweet. ::sighs:: ::wishes guys were really like that::  
  
Guess what? I saw The Core today! That is SUCH an awesome movie! There's a preview for the 2nd HP movie that comes out April 11th! I loved it! I'm going to DIE waiting. 


	5. Flying Lessons

"Show them to me." Harry said the next morning at lunch. He was starting to hear a few of Blaise's strong thoughts, but according to Blaise, she could hear almost all of his thoughts. Feeling very self-conscious, he tried to keep his thoughts quelled.  
  
"What?" She whispered.  
  
"Show me the other ones."  
  
"You mean . . . like me?" Blaise asked softly. Harry nodded. "Okay . . . there." She pointed subtlely and quickly returned to her toast. Harry glanced casually at where she'd pointed. A girl with long, dark golden hair and a very pretty face was smiling rather nastily to the Hufflepuffs. She seemed tall, and very slim, with a dark tan that brought out her bright blue eyes.  
  
"Avery?" he asked, turning back to Blaise.  
  
"The one and only," Her lip was curled as she inspected the jam.  
  
"Where are the other two?" he queried, drawing her attention away from the jam. Blaise scanned the table before nodding. Harry looked to where she'd nodded. A boy with reddish-gold hair that reached the bottom of his ears was watching his empty plate intently with golden-brown eyes. As Harry looked at him he raised his eyes and gazed straight at Harry.  
  
"That's Cepheus Major," Blaise informed him. "Me and him used to be friends because we were the only kids at my mother's parties, but after we got the Mark . . ."  
  
"He and I." Harry corrected her grammar absently as Major looked back down at his plate.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Look, there's Caelum Nott." Harry tore his eyes away from Cepheus Major to see another boy seated at the opposite end of the Slytherin table. This boy was eating ravenously, talking animatedly to a group of Slytherin girls who were watching him adoringly. And Harry knew the reason for their star-struck gazes: the boy was a blonde with blue eyes. Even Slytherin girls considered this to qualify as good-looking.  
  
"And then there's you." He muttered, looking back at Blaise.  
  
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I've ruined your life and - "  
  
"Shut up, Blaise." He ordered, and his tone left no room for argument. Blaise closed her mouth and met his searching green eyes.  
  
Before either could say more, several people from the table and the other tables around them rose to leave. /Must be almost time for class/, Harry thought. Blaise's solemn face broke into a grin.  
  
"First flying lesson!" She explained as she hurriedly stuffed her books into her bag.  
  
"Flying?" Harry asked. Blaise's eyes went wide as they rose.  
  
"I didn't tell you about Quidditch?"  
  
"What-itch?"  
  
"I'll explain as we go. Onto the grounds, you know. Well, come on! Follow me!"  
  
* * *  
  
As Harry stood by the broomstick, holding his hand over it, about to order it up under the watchful yellow eyes of Madam Hooch, all he knew about Quidditch was that you flew around on a broomstick and tried to score using the Sniffle, or something like that, and that it was /the/ Wizard's game. And, of course, that they were about to learn how to fly.  
  
"Up!" He ordered, like everyone else, both Gryffindor and Slytherin, but unlike everyone else, his broom jumped into his hand. He glanced at Blaise to see her face contorted in concentration and her broom half- hovering a foot above the ground. He looked around at the other Slytherins. Malfoy's broom struggled into his hand on his third 'up'. Then to the Gryffindors to see Hermione's merely roll over.  
  
Though some people had to pick theirs up, eventually everyone got their brooms in their hands. They were instructed on how to mount and hold their brooms, and Harry was surprised to find that he'd done everything right the first time without being told. He and Blaise were particularly pleased to hear Hooch tell Malfoy he'd been holding his broom wrong for years.  
  
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Hooch, up at the front to the two parallel rows of Gryffindor and Slytherin students. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"  
  
A pudgy, round-faced boy from the Gryffindor side pushed off hard before the whistle even made contact with Hooch's mouth.  
  
"Come back, boy!" she cried in a strikingly hawk-like voice, but the Gryffindor was rising straight up into the sky - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry caught of glimpse of a scared white face looking down at the ground that was so rapidly leaving him behind, saw a gasp, saw the boy slip sideways off the broom and -  
  
WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and the Gryffindor lay facedown on the grass in a crumpled heap. Harry watched his broomstick for a moment as it rose higher and higher toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight. Then he looked back to the boy.  
  
Hooch was bending over him, her face whiter than his was. Harry heard an indistinct mutter - the boy had fallen off at the Gryffindor end and they were too far away for him to hear. Hooch helped him up and turned to face the class, the boy held close to her side.  
  
"None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."  
  
The boy, his paled face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist (Harry suspected that it was broken or badly sprained), hobbled off with Madam Hooch.  
  
No sooner were they out of view than Malfoy burst into laughter.  
  
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"  
  
The other Slytherins, save Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus Major (who merely kicked at the grass, clutching his broom protectively) joined in.  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy." A Gryffindor snapped.  
  
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a pug-faced Slytherin who absolutely adored Malfoy. "Never thought /you'd/ like fat little crybabies, Parvati."  
  
"Look!" exclaimed Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass near where Longbottom had fallen. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."  
  
A glass ball the size of a large marble, seemingly full of white smoke, glittered in the sun as he held it up. Harry heard Blaise gasp slightly beside him.  
  
"It's a Remembrall, he's taken a Remembrall! Those things are expensive!" she whispered furiously to him.  
  
Harry saw a red-haired Gryffindor move forward angrily, broom still clutched in his hand, his knuckles turning white.  
  
"Give it here, Malfoy!" he shouted, and everyone stopped talking to listen. Malfoy smiled rather nastily.  
  
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - maybe - up a tree?"  
  
"Give it HERE!" the redhead yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He soared up to the topmost branches of an oak and called, "Come get it, Weasley!"  
  
Weasley made to mount his broom, but Harry had already pushed off. He soared right past the Weasley boy and up toward Malfoy. The wind rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him. He grinned fiercely as he realized that this was something that was as natural to him as staying balanced while walking. He didn't need to be shown how to do this; he could just /do/ it. He pulled the handle of his broomstick up to take it even higher and heard a few screams from girls and gasps from guys, mingling with an admiring whoop from Blaise. He was surprised to feel a deep sense of fierce pride invade his mind: it was Blaise's pride. She was proud of him.  
  
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair, allowing his fierce grin to become maniacal when he caught sight of Malfoy's stunned face.  
  
"What are you doing up here, Potter?" Malfoy finally said. Harry flicked his head a little to get rid of a few stray strands of black hair.  
  
"I couldn't resist a chance to humiliate you, Malfoy. Now, let's see that Remembrall, ay?" Harry grinned wider.  
  
"Wondering if you've forgotten anything, Potter? Like perhaps what House you've been Sorted into?" Malfoy sneered. Harry's grin faded and he set his face angrily.  
  
"No, I think you have, Malfoy. I don't remember Slytherin House's qualities being described as cowardly." He shot back, quite pleased to see Malfoy's pale face turning whiter at the dark anger that was written on Harry's face. "So why don't you give me that Remembrall and I won't have to knock you off that broom, alright?"  
  
"Oh, you're going to knock me off my broom? Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, keeper of Slytherin qualities, is going to knock me off my broom?" Malfoy sneered. Harry smiled, a sticky sweet, fake smile. He could feel Malfoy's unease as the boy's face lost the before-present smugness. Without warning Harry leaned forward so that his chin grazed the broom handle and it shot forward like a slingshot. Malfoy only barely got away, and Harry let out a harsh laugh as he saw the shock and fright in Malfoy's expression. He made a sharp about-face, not listening to the few people that were clapping back down on the ground.  
  
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your scrawny neck, Draco!" Harry called, remembering the two enormous Slytherins Malfoy always kept as bodyguards.  
  
The same thought seemed to have just struck Malfoy.  
  
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted and threw the glass ball. He really does have a good aim, thought Harry. The ball reached its maximum velocity and streaked back toward the ground.  
  
Compelled by a feeling he'd never experienced before, Harry pointed his broom handle down and flattened himself against it - the next second he was hurtling toward the ground. The wind stung his face and tore at his eyes - he could feel his hair being blown away from his face, and the wind felt strangely soothing on his scar - he could vaguely hear the screams of the Gryffindors and Slytherins as he raced the flying ball - this was great, this was better than great! Harry laughed once, twice, diving toward the ground, and he held out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight and land on the ground smoothly, the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. He stepped off of his broom, and took a good look at the Remembrall. The smoke was red.  
  
"MR. POTTER!"  
  
Harry looked up sharply to see Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, striding toward him. He'd landed very near to the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins, and Blaise and Hermione seemed to have been making their way toward him. /Oh yes/, he thought, /I forgot that anyone trying to fly would be expelled/.  
  
"Come with me." Snape said silkily as he drew close enough not to have to yell. Immediately people began talking.  
  
"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"  
  
"Be quiet, Miss Zabini -" he snapped at Blaise.  
  
"Malfoy -"  
  
"That goes for you too, Mr. Major -" Harry shot a look at Cepheus Major, who was almost glaring at Snape. That was odd. Major never spoke. "Potter, come with me."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy's smirking face, sending a reassuring thought toward Blaise and a look toward both her and Hermione as he passed them. Then he kept his eyes trained on the back of Snape's billowing robes.  
  
He tried to keep the thought of 'I'm going to be expelled' from running through his head as they strode to the castle, but it appeared anyway.  
  
/No you won't!/  
  
Harry nearly stopped in his tracks. Long distance, he thought with amusement. He wondered how far away he could exchange thoughts with Blaise at.  
  
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Snape didn't say a word to him. He shoved open the doors and marched along corridors with Harry following him briskly, still holding his broom. Was Snape taking him to Dumbledore? Surely Dumbledore wouldn't send Harry back to the streets? Harry swallowed, the hand holding his broom shaking, knuckles white. Not the Dursleys, not the Dursleys!  
  
Snape stopped outside a classroom. He opened the door and spoke.  
  
"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. I need to borrow Flint."  
  
Flint? Thought Harry, bewildered. Was Snape going to set him on fire?  
  
But Flint turned out to be a person, a tall sixth year boy who came out of McGonagall's class looking slightly confused, but sneering so that Harry could see every one of his horribly unaligned teeth. Harry fought not to show any sign of his revulsion. Snape may yet decide to set him on fire.  
  
"Follow me." Snape said curtly and they marched on up the corridor, Flint shooting Harry looks. Harry narrowed his eyes in return, using his broom as a sort of walking stick.  
  
"Here." Snape pointed them into an empty classroom. He closed the door behind them and turned to face them, black eyes lingering first on Harry then turning to Flint.  
  
"This is Marcus Flint. Flint, here's your Seeker."  
  
Flint's expression morphed from sneering puzzlement to doubt.  
  
"Him? He's a first year, Professor Snape."  
  
"I'm sure with a little persuasion Dumbledore will let us bend the rules - after all, we're in need of a Seeker."  
  
Flint's doubt still lingered slightly, but he began walking around Harry. Harry stood stock still, eyes trained on the chalkboard at the front of the class, reminded of the muggle military boot camp.  
  
"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty foot dive, Flint," Snape said, gesturing toward the Remembrall, which Harry looked down at. "Was that your first time on a broom, Potter?"  
  
"Yes." Harry replied, fighting not to say 'sir' and salute Snape.  
  
"He's a natural." Snape finished.  
  
"Ever heard of Quidditch Potter?" Flint asked, his tone devoid of the usual sneer. Harry nodded his head.  
  
"Flint's Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team." Snape explained in a clipped tone. Harry looked at him, then back to Flint.  
  
"Good build for a Seeker, light, speedy. Have to have a good broom, preferably a Nimbus 2000." Flint said as he circled Harry like a vulture.  
  
"Of course. I was quite pleased at the look on Professor McGonagall's face when we won last time. With Higgs unable to play, we need a Seeker just as good as him, if not better. Train him hard, Flint. And you, Potter," Snape turned to Harry, who met his black gaze steadily. "you'd better train hard or I might change my mind about punishing you. Back to class, Flint, and you too, Potter." And with that Snape stalked out of the classroom. Flint turned to Harry.  
  
"Next Monday, Potter, five a.m., you'd better be there."  
  
And then Flint was gone too. Harry looked down at the broom. He really didn't feel like returning to the flying lesson, even though it was almost over. Making up his mind, he strode out of the classroom and walked down toward the Slytherin common room, ignoring the stares from inside the open doors of classrooms. He hadn't noticed the open doors, but now the stares made him feel quite self-conscious.  
  
When he finally reached the Slytherin common room he glanced at the wizarding clock that told you what class you were supposed to be in. At the top of the square clock the words 'Harry Potter, First Year' appeared in silver handwriting, and a large green arrow appeared below it, pointing to the space in between 'Flying Lesson with Madam Hooch' and 'Dinner'. Harry set down the broom carefully on the chair by the fire and walked up the stairs to the First Year Boys dorm. He strolled inside, staying as far away as possible from Malfoy's bed. He'd been lucky to get the one farthest from the door, which was where Malfoy slept (near the door). Next to Harry was Cepheus Major, then Caelum Nott, then Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, and, last and definitely least, Malfoy. It was quite a comfortable arrangement, thought Harry as he knelt by his trunk. As long as he didn't have to sleep beside Malfoy, he was okay.  
  
"Sadie." He hissed as he opened his trunk. His little charcoal- colored snake raised her head, looking at Harry blearily.  
  
"'Sssssss morning?" she asked. Harry smiled.  
  
"Yes, it's almost time for dinner."  
  
Sadie shot up, uncoiling rapidly and heading for Harry's outstretched arm.  
  
"Arrrrre you going to feeeed me thissss time?" She asked as she slithered under his robe sleeve. Harry shivered slightly at the sensation.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I can sneak you something. But it might look a little weird for me to just go putting food up my sleeve."  
  
"Why doooooon't you let me outtttt? I'll sssstay low, I prrrrromisssse."  
  
Harry pondered this for a moment,  
  
"Sure. Just don't go wandering off. Stay close."  
  
"Yessss ssssir." Sadie curled up around his biceps. Harry flexed his fingers once before shutting his trunk and rising, heading out of the dormitory and back to the common room.  
  
"Nice nap?" he asked his arm.  
  
"Yessss. Verrrry nissssse (A/N: you know, nice?)."  
  
"Good." Harry replied as he grabbed the broom and exited the room.  
  
* * *  
  
"You're joking."  
  
It was dinnertime. Sadie was roaming their area of the table, sneaking some food every now and then. Harry had just told Blaise and Hermione (who'd come over demanding he tell her what on earth he was thinking) about his new Quidditch position.  
  
"That's a very big accomplishment, Harry. The last First year to be on their House team was a century ago. I read it in Hogwarts, A History (A/N: Couldn't resist)."  
  
"Wow! That's cool! I'll have to explain Quidditch to you, Harry! Wanna go flying after dinner? You come too, Mione, we'll have a roaring good time!" Blaise exclaimed, looking very excited. Harry smiled; it sounded good to him. But Hermione had a regretful look on her face.  
  
"I really need to get to work on that Transfiguration essay . . ." she trailed off, looking at the pudding. Blaise made a face.  
  
"That one about beetles and buttons?"  
  
"Yes, I'm only half done -"  
  
"Look, Mione, we'll fly for a bit then we'll all go down to the Slytherin common room and do the essay together." Blaise wheedled, but Hermione looked up quickly.  
  
"Oh, no! If we're going to work on the essay, we're going to Gryffindor! I'm not going to be in the /common room/ of the Slytherins! No offense to you, Harry and Blaise, but I'd prefer to be surrounded by people who don't despise me and by the red and gold of Gryffindor." Hermione insisted.  
  
"Touching, Mione, touching. We'll go to Gryffindor if you'll come flying." Harry compromised. Hermione considered this offer for a moment before nodding.  
  
"Deal."  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
Blaise grinned.  
  
Sadie choked on a mouthful of chocolate pudding.  
  
A/N: Hiya! Sorry I was late last time. But here I am! Did you like this chapter? Gotta be one of the longest ones I've written - seven pages of pure Harry and Blaise-ness! Well, there's also Flint and Malfoy and Snape and Cepheus Major (my creation, by the way ::blushes::) and all these other dudes! So it isn't pure! And I'm just a raving lunatic! Don't mind me! Next chapter: Out flying! Then studying! And other stuff! Like maybe if I have enough room talking to Dumbledore!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Rayvern: Uh huh. Yup yup. That's partially the point. I had considered having Blaise get the diary in Year Two (if I got that far) but then I thought no! That's defeating the purpose! So Ginny's still gonna get it. But I dunno, some events are gonna get switched around because Blaise's all bonded with Harry. Maybe in Fourth Year (by god, the thought of getting that far scares me!) instead of Ron being taken for the Second Task it'll be Blaise. I dunno.  
  
Carey Miles: OH! I LOVE YOU TO NO ENDS! I'd totally forgotten that they had to see Dumbledore! God I'm stupid! YES YES YES YES YES! Of course I want to read it! Snape with a son? WOW! Gimme gimme gimme gimme!  
  
Cho Chang 913: Sorry I separated your name, my computer's stupid. Thanks! I like Harry's drawiness as well! Short? Then write longer! I love listening to weird reviewers going on and on and on and on!  
  
Sk8reagle: Yesssssssss . . .  
  
Rachel: . . . oh yeah! Hehe! Happy Birthday! Good! Something more to torture your parents with! ::grins::  
  
Katy999: Oh oh oh oh! You save my life! Perfect idea! Hugs and kisses! I love you! Thank you!  
  
Sushinase: Lovely name. My computer thought it was supposed to be 'slushiness'. Well, you see stories all the time where Sev has a thing for Lily, and I love the Severitus Challenge. I rather like it. My description of Lily was quite odd, now that I think of it, but yeah. Harry's wand is the same as it was in the original series. Yes, I'll read your story now, K? Expect a review if you haven't already gotten one!  
  
Tati: Yeah, everybody likes Harry with a snake, don't they? Heh. You like my stories? ::blushes:: No, no Voldie in first year (except in the whole Quirrell idea and stuff) but that's not what I meant by five years. Harry has to do something in five years (which you'll learn what it is in either the next chapter or the one after) or he'll die. Voldie will come back like in the series in the fourth book. Yes, Harry has good morals. Hehe! Morals. Well, Harry still has to learn that Snape's his daddy and Snape still has to make sure that Harry is really his son, but after that I'm afraid only Harry's close friends will know until either Voldie dies or Harry does (you never know where JK Rowling is going with these books - she hints that she's going to kill Harry off but then doesn't seem like she will, ya know?) 


	6. Hermione Flies and Ron's Approach

"Oh, I hate brooms! And I don't like flying!" Hermione grumbled as she mounted her broom.  
  
"Aw, brooms aren't that bad! Neither's flying!" Blaise cried, flexing her fingers around the handle of her broom. Hermione gave her a severe look. Blaise, ever so mature, stuck her tongue out at the Gryffindor girl.  
  
"Up, up, and away!" Harry called, grinning as he pushed off. He heard Blaise whoop behind him as he rose and looked over his shoulder. She had just pushed off. Then he looked over at Hermione. She was still standing on the ground, feet planted firmly on the ground, biting her lip.  
  
"Hermione!" Blaise yelled.  
  
"I can't do it!" Hermione called back as the two Slytherins rose higher. Harry turned sharply and headed back down toward Hermione. He landed beside her.  
  
"Come on, didn't you fly at all during the flying lesson?" he asked. He could hear Blaise's happy cried behind and above him.  
  
"Only a little, and I hated it!" Hermione said, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
"Here, fly with me for a minute then try it on your own broom. Deal?" Harry made a pouty face at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and put her broom down on the ground and walked to him. Harry grinned. "Behind me, then!"  
  
Hermione climbed onto the broom behind him and wrapped her arms securely around Harry's waist. Harry could feel her trembling.  
  
"Hey, calm down Mione, it's really not that bad. Count of three, okay? One -"  
  
Harry pushed off hard. He heard Hermione scream behind him and tighten her grip on his waist.  
  
"What did you do that for?! Count of three!" Hermione yelled in his ear.  
  
"Why would I wait until three? I like flying." Harry replied, grinning maniacally, even though Hermione couldn't see him do so. "Look down, Mione!"  
  
"Oh my god. I'm going to fall and die." Hermione breathed.  
  
"No you won't. I'll save ya if you fall, don't worry." Harry said, and broke into a dive suddenly. Hermione screamed again, nearly choking him with her arms around his waist. Harry pulled up abruptly, shooting straight up, laughing happily while Hermione screamed.  
  
"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"GET ME DOWN!"  
  
"Why? We're having too much fun!" And Harry veered into a barrel roll, sending his passenger into a fit of hysterics.  
  
After a few more tricks that brought screams from Hermione and howls of laughter from Blaise, Harry finally touched down. Hermione jumped off the broom as soon as she could and ran quite a distance away from Harry.  
  
/Lovely, Harry. Now she'll really want to fly her own broom/.  
  
Harry turned to Blaise, who'd landed a few feet away, and grinned.  
  
/Yeah. She'll feel better that she's in control of what she does/.  
  
/Oh wise one/.  
  
"Aw shut up, Blaise." Harry muttered out loud.  
  
* * *  
  
After Blaise had explained the rules of Quidditch to Harry, and Hermione had shakily flown a ways on her own, all three returned the brooms to the broom shed and headed up to the castle.  
  
"You know I'm going to hate you forever and ever, right Harry?" Hermione said to him as they walked up the front steps.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They walked through the corridors and down to the Slytherin common room. Hermione waited outside while Harry and Blaise went in to grab their texts and essays. They passed Malfoy on the way out.  
  
"Getting your things, Potter? Going to go home already?" he sneered. Harry turned and grinned wildly as Blaise continued through the portrait hole.  
  
"Yes, that's right, I'm off to say my good-byes. You?"  
  
Draco merely sneered again.  
  
"You have this thing with sneering, don't you?" Harry asked. Malfoy glared. Harry gave him another broader grin before turning and leaving after Blaise.  
  
"Sorry, Malfoy held me up." Harry said. Blaise rolled her eyes and Hermione uncrossed her arms. The three of them headed for Gryffindor Tower.  
  
* * *  
  
Ron Weasley looked up when the portrait hole opened. He saw that annoying know-it-all Hermione Granger walk in and beckon to someone behind her and rolled his eyes. He would have returned to his homework had he not caught a glimpse of who Granger was beckoning to. His mouth dropped open as Harry Potter walked into the Gryffindor common room, looking around, his face impassive as he studied the high ceiling and the red and gold that decorated the walls. Then, after Potter, came Blaise Zabini, Potter's associate. Then Granger closed the portrait and led the two /Slytherins/ to her usual corner near to the fire. Ron noticed most Gryffindors looking up at the two intruders, mouths open, making small noises in their throats.  
  
Granger sat down on her seat and picked up her textbook. Potter glanced around, found no empty seats, and sat down on the floor. Zabini sat beside him. Both reached into their bookbags and pulled out a textbook.  
  
Granger looked up at the silent common room. Ron could see her face go slightly red at the stares she was receiving. Potter looked up at her. He noticed her set face and slightly red cheeks and looked around behind him. He smirked at the staring Gryffindors and returned to his textbook.  
  
"What page is it again, Mione?" his voice broke the silence. Granger looked back down at her text as well.  
  
"Twelve." She muttered. There was a rustling as both Potter and Zabini turned to page twelve.  
  
"Is it always this quiet in here?" Zabini asked, glancing behind her and then back to Granger. Granger shook her head, still studying her textbook.  
  
"No, not usually. They're just stunned that there are two Slytherins in the Gryffindor common room right now." She answered. Zabini nodded.  
  
A few minutes passed and a few Gryffindors began to talk again, but Ron wasn't about to let Granger get away with this. He rose and started toward the two Slytherins and Granger. The room fell silent again as he reached them. Granger looked up.  
  
"Oh, hello Ron." She said and went back to reading the book. Ron's cheeks flushed with anger.  
  
"Hello, /Granger/. Tell me, just what do you think you're doing, taking two Slytherins into the /Gryffindor/ common room?" he asked icily, crossing his arms.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better, /Ron/, they didn't hear the password." said Granger, not bothering to look up.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, Granger? Those are /Slytherins/, you know, Dark Wizards?" Ron almost shouted at the stubborn girl. Granger looked up, eyes narrowed, and seemed about to rise, but Potter beat her to it. He rose quite slowly, and by the time he reached his height, his green eyes were level with Ron's. Potter stared at him, face impassive once again, for several moments before Ron had to turn his head.  
  
"Dear me, Weasley, can't even stand to look at a /future Dark Wizard/?" Potter spat out the last words. "I'm sorry if Blaise and I have offended you by soiling your common room with /dirty Slytherin blood/, but if I may remind you, Voldemort -" Everyone in the room except Blaise flinched, "- killed my parents. Just what makes you think I'd want to go and join him? And how do I know that you aren't a Dark Wizard? Just because you're in Gryffindor? I think you have more of a chance to be one than I do. I mean, look at you. Five older brothers. You must feel very left out. Overshadowed by your siblings? How do I know that you aren't going to go Dark just because you want revenge on being the least of the Weasleys?"  
  
Ron's mouth was open. How did he know that? How did he know that Ron had five brothers, and that he always felt overshadowed by them?  
  
"Well, Weasley?" Potter asked impatiently.  
  
"I'm not a Dark Wizard!" Ron exclaimed incredulously, regaining his wits. Potter arched one black eyebrow.  
  
"Nor am I." He said.  
  
"But how do we know you aren't lying?" Ron said defensively.  
  
"How do I know you aren't lying?"  
  
Ron shut his mouth. Potter had a good point. Ron mulled this over for a moment until inspiration struck.  
  
"Every Death Eater has a Dark Mark branded on his forearm, can't remember which one. Look, all clean." Ron said, pulling up the sleeve of his shabby robes to reveal both forearms. He stared at Potter defiantly.  
  
Potter glanced around, at all the people watching him expectantly. He seemed like he didn't really want to do it, but he lifted up his sleeve anyway.  
  
Ron's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped when he saw Potter's arm. Scars and scabs and bruises covered the entire length of pale, waxy-looking skin. Potter's arm looked like it was just skin stretched over bone; no muscle, no meat. Potter quickly let his sleeve fall and shoved up his other one. This arm was just as bad. Potter hastily put his sleeve back in order. He stared at the floor for a good minute before blinking and looking back up at Ron.  
  
"Happy that I'm not a Dark Wizard now, Weasley? Or would you like me to show you the rest of my arm, just to make sure Voldemort didn't put that pesky little Dark Mark in some other place?"  
  
Ron was so shocked he forgot to flinch.  
  
"Come on, Blaise," Potter turned around. "Let's go. We wouldn't want to dirty up the Gryffindor common room any more than it already is." He grabbed his open textbook and shut it loudly.  
  
"See ya, Mione." Zabini called as the two Slytherins opened the portrait hole and crept out, shutting it behind them.  
  
"Are you quite happy now, Ron?"  
  
Ron turned back to Granger, mouth still slightly open. Granger's hands were on her hips and her brown eyes narrowed.  
  
"Huh?" was all he managed to say.  
  
"You've chased off my friends because of some childish house rivalry. Do you have any idea how stupid you are?" she yelled at him. Ron just stood, stunned.  
  
Granger turned back to her textbook, grabbed it and shut it with a louder bang than Potter had, and hurried out the portrait hole after the two Slytherins.  
  
There was silence in the common room as they all stared at the closed portrait hole. Then everyone turned to Ron.  
A/N: What a lovely chapter. I'm sorry about Ron and Harry's conversation, it's all crappy. But hey, I'm really tired, so hah. I'll have a way better chapter next time, don't worry.  
  
Reviewers:  
  
Katy999: I like the red ones. Do you like Mike and Ikes? I do. Yeah, they kinda are asking for trouble, aren't they? But wouldn't you say that about Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table?  
  
Sarah: Alright, if you're the expert on Mary Sues, how is Blaise one? And I'm so terribly sorry if you think my story is pathetic but the least you could do is keep your mouth shut about it.  
  
Creamy Mimi: Indeed, chocolate pudding.  
  
Carey Miles: Heh, couldn't have Harry getting expelled, could we? Sheesh! Yes! Yes! Send me more of your story!  
  
Ryra Skorka: You tell her!  
  
Rachel: Tempting . . . but no, nobody else can know about Sadie (except maybe Mione) until they find out he's a Parseltongue. Maybe then. Gryffindor Seeker? I dunno . . . you'll find out when I do.  
  
Ian: Ah shush. I'm going, I'm going.  
  
Xirleb70: I update every weekend (as long as ff.net cooperated). Don't worry! I won't leave you there forever!  
  
Sk8reagle: We'll hear more from Ron soon. Yeah, Hermione on a broom . . . very fun to write!  
  
Andrea_Potter: Not as good as it could've been, but I was rushing to finish it.  
  
Hell's Reaper: Well, Ginny will be about as much of a character in this story as she was in the original series, so . . . I'm not sure about Harry and Blaise. That's something that'll come around when it feels like it. Eventually even Ron will warm up to the Slyths but it'll take quite some time. 


	7. This is a VERY bloody chapter, beware!

Harry stormed through the corridors, fuming silently. Of course, Blaise could hear every word he thought, so he might as well have been yelling the obscenities he was thinking at the top of his lungs for all the difference it would have made. Blaise shot him more than one shocked look as she trotted beside him. For every one of Harry's long strides (surprisingly long, considering that Blaise was a bit short for her age group and Harry was only a bit taller than her), Blaise had to take two in order to keep up with him, so she ended up doing an awkward sort of jog beside him.  
  
Harry was an impressive sight when angry. His green eyes glowed like the reflection of fire off a badly cut emerald gem, and his black robes billowed out behind him in a shockingly Snape-like manner. Although, Blaise mused, Snape did not usually walk quite as fast as Harry did.  
  
"Harry!" Blaise exclaimed aloud as a particularly nasty comment about Ron Weasley crossed his mind. Suddenly Harry rounded on her, stopping them both in their tracks. He took a step toward her and she took a step back. He holed her into a corner before he spoke, his eyes raging like wildfire.  
  
"What business do you have, listening to /my/ thoughts? Who gave you that right? Not me! Stay out of my head, Blaise Zabini! You stay out of my head and stay away from me!" He yelled at her, his entire body trembling with repressed rage. Blaise cringed and tried to back away before realizing she was backed into a corner. She couldn't stop her face from twisting into an expression of terrible hurt. She thought she saw Harry's face soften slightly and his eyes widen a little before he turned and continued down the corridor, but she couldn't be sure. Hurt was numbing her mind. All she knew was that Harry - Harry! Her best friend, Harry! - had yelled at her and left her standing in the middle of the corridor, gaping at the empty corridor where he'd just been.  
  
Eventually Blaise came to her senses enough to feel her legs turn into jelly and to collapse on the floor against the corner.  
  
All of a sudden, such a terrible feeling of emptiness and longing to go after Harry hit her that she cried out in loss, tears streaking her cheeks. She ripped away the sleeve of her robes and looked upon the despised Mark: the indigo skull. She sobbed again and placed her other hand over the skull, fingers flexed like claws.  
  
(A/N: Beware, goriness from here on. As in, blood and hurt.)  
  
Blaise steeled herself and sunk her fingernails into the soft tender skin that the skull was marked over. She sobbed once again as the pain reached her brain (A/N: I'm a poet and I didn't know it). She'd always been a wimp for pain, but this was something she had to do, like it or not. She wasn't sure why, but as she scratched at the tender flesh, leaving shocked white lines, she felt a strange kind of painful relief. As her own sticky blood poured down her arm and she mutilated the skull, even as she bit her lip right through to keep from screaming and more blood drenched her chin, she felt as if a great load had been lifted from her chest. And when she felt a warm hand cover her own and stop her from hurting herself more, heard whispered words of comfort, she blacked out.  
  
A/n: Did ya like it? I know it's kinda short but - no, I'm kidding! The chapter isn't over yet, don't worry.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry slowed his fast pace considerably as he rounded the corner and disappeared from Blaise's sight. Her emotions had flooded him; hurt, sorrow, despair, and more than any other: guilt. Harry himself felt incredibly guilty, though he wasn't sure if it was just Blaise's guilt, his own, or a merging of both. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and glaring bitterly at the floor.  
  
When he'd recovered from wallowing in guilt and slowly fading anger, he shoved away from the wall and began to walk, albeit a good deal slower than before, toward the Slytherin common room.  
  
Harry was as fine as he could possibly be with feelings of guilt and anger tearing at his mind and heart until the entrance to the Slytherin common room came into view. As he took another step, he felt an odd tug at his heart (not literally, of course). He furrowed his brow and took another step - and collapsed against the wall, crying out in pain.  
  
He had dealt with physical pain before plenty of times, but this kind of pain, the kind that came straight from his heart -  
  
Harry clutched his chest, face screwed up against the empty feeling that echoed around his ribcage, as though the space inside was nothing but an empty cavity. He gritted his teeth against yelling again.  
  
Steered beyond some force beyond himself, he half-crawled, half-walked in the direction of Blaise. As he neared where he had left her, the pain and empty feeling slowly receded until he was huddled just around the bend, breathless and gasping as his chest twinged. He rose shakily and stumbled around the corner and looked to where he'd left Blaise.  
  
"Blaise!" Harry gasped, stumbling toward her. He tripped and fell onto his face a few feet away from her. He raised his head, mouth open at what he saw.  
  
Blaise was huddled in the corner, dark eyes wet, face soaked with tears, but that wasn't what froze Harry - Blaise had her hand over the indigo skull and was slashing away at it with her fingernails. Blood coated her bare arm and her hand.  
  
As Harry forced himself forward, Blaise's emotions struck him again - /relief/. This mutilation cause Blaise /relief/. Harry crawled to Blaise and put his own hand over hers, stopping her from slashing herself any more.  
  
"Blaise, Blaise, what are you doing? Shh, it's okay, you're gonna be okay -" Harry whispered nonsense to Blaise as he pulled her bloody hand away from her arm. There was blood, blood everywhere, in the crevices of her skin, under her fingernails, accompanied by -  
  
Harry swallowed. Not only was there blood under Blaise's fingernails, but small chunks of skin, her own skin.  
  
He put his arm around Blaise, preparing to help her to her feet, but she fell slack in his arms. Harry swallowed again, Blaise's pain choking him, and carefully slid his other arm under her knees and gathered his friend to him. He rose shakily, clutching Blaise to him, and took a quivering step forward.  
  
By the time he reached the end of the corridor his steps were firmer and more sure; by the time he made it to a higher hallway where students halted to stare at he and Blaise as they went by, he was almost running, stuck in a sort of fast glide.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
Harry didn't want to stop; he had to get Blaise to the hospital wing! But the tone of Snape's voice left n argument. He turned reluctantly, tightening his grip on Blaise's unconscious form.  
  
"What in the world are you doing?" Snape said incredulously as he caught sight of Blaise's current position in Harry's arms.  
  
"Sir, I need to get her to the hospital wing." Harry blurted out, almost dancing on his feet to take off for the hospital wing. Before he could witness Snape's face soften into concern, a sight few human beings ever saw, he was struck as though by lightning with a sudden pain where his Mark was. He cried out, face screwed up, and collapsed on the floor, Blaise falling listlessly from his arms beside him.  
  
Snape and the onlooking students were too shocked to act for a moment, but just as Snape moved forward, an earsplitting scream ripped it's way from Harry's throat.  
  
A/N: This really is the end of the chapter. I'm sorry it's so short. Honestly, I hand-wrote it and it was almost six pages, but on here it's just over three! Geez! Did ya like it? The next chapter: Harry's dream. Three guesses what it was about and the first three don't count, since you're not going to get it anyway. Also in the next chapter: In the previous chapter I said that Hermione took off after them, right? Well, her excludement from this chapter will be explained in the next one (although it isn't much of an explanation). Well, tell me if you like it or hate it, give me suggestions on improvement! Hehe!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Xirleb70: Heh, I get giggles all the time. Today my friend Ashley had an egg (chocolate, you know) in her lunch, from her boyfriend at dance, and somebody asked if he laid it for her, and I couldn't stop laughing all the way to band. It was hilarious.  
  
Sk8reagle: Who, Ron? Yeah, Hermione will be totally ignoring him for quite a while. I'm thinking of maybe having Ron be the victim of the troll and have Blaise and Harry save him . . . you like? And yeah, it's their first year. Yup.  
  
Lexi-formerly Katy999: Yeah, Ron's an idiot. He'll shape up though. Well, I figured that maybe he overheard something . . . I dunno yet. Any ideas on how he knew? Sadie? She's in Harry's trunk. Harry thought taking her flying would be a very bad idea and maybe a snake in the lion's den wouldn't go over too well. I like Mike and Ikes! Well, Hermione does sit at the Gryff table sometimes, like when Blaise was pointing out the other kids (Cepheus, Alada, and Caelum) to Harry. She may invite Harry and Blaise over there sometime soon. I dunno.  
  
Carey Miles: It sure was fun to write! Harry scared Mione out of her mind! Ooh! I'll go review! It was great! More more more!  
  
Lei Dumbledore: Hope you like this chappie. You know what's funny? I used to really not like you because of that one story you did with Harry and Snape and Lei, but I'm over it. No hard feelings?  
  
The Desert Fox: I hadn't given that much thought. Yeah, it'll be funny to see Lucius' face. Heh. At least Draco didn't bond with Harry. ::shivers:: Scary.  
  
Calani: And you have gotten it!  
  
Phoenix Flight: Ehm, well, I'll try to explain it more when I can fit it in without being conspicuous . . . new word! EE!  
  
Merlin Halliwell and Fallen Dragon: Nyeh, okay! Nyeh, what's up doc?  
  
PhoenixMan: Ah! ::blushes:: Thank you. ::looks at feet:: No, I'm kidding. But thanks. You made my day. ::sniffles::  
  
Floramorada: Heh, thanks. Hermione on a broom! Rather odd, eh?  
  
Velondra: Lovely name! K, I'll email you (or try to at least) but if I don't, just check back around the weekend.  
  
Ian: Is it Ian with an i or L? Hem . . . define 'Dark wizard but not evil'. Should he have a bad temper like Sevvie? I dunno what you're getting at.  
  
Rachel: Thanks!  
  
Lilshortymutt: Sank ya, I will!  
  
Little tiger: Thank you! Yes, I thought Blaise would be a better friend for Harry than Pansy. Heh. ::bursts into laughter from the very thought:: Anyway, yep, we'll find out lots more about Blaise and her past in the future. Yeah, poor Malfoy, huh? Being embarrassed in front of the whole school.  
  
Little tiger: ::blushes:: Thank you. 


	8. Dreaming and a Visitor

Harry tried to look around him but his eyes didn't seem to be under his control. His entire body felt oddly distant, as though he wasn't really there. Without his command, his hands were clutching his robes at his sides, shaking. And he was biting his lip.  
  
He tried to take control of his hands, to force them to let go of the robes, but they would do no such thing. And he couldn't quit biting his lip. Even the sharp sting that came from biting your lip too hard seemed muffled.  
  
Harry quit trying to control his own body and instead returned to his eyes. He looked at what his eyes registered. He saw that he was part of a huge circle of people wearing black, hooded cloaks, ranging from small forms he took to be children and taller ones, probably adults.  
  
Harry was suddenly aware of the feeling that he was shorter. And something else too that he couldn't quite explain.  
  
One very tall man stood in the center of the circle, a piece of parchment clutched in his hand, an eerie white mask covering his face. It took a moment for Harry to realize that he was speaking.  
  
" . . . your name, step forward. Alada Avery."  
  
A cloaked figure stepped forward. It lowered its hood, revealing a young girl's pretty face. The girl stood beside the hooded man, smiling smugly at each child-sized figure in turn.  
  
"Cepheus Major."  
  
Harry's head turned sharply of its own accord as the figure beside him threw a startled look at him. From under the boy's hood, Harry recognized a younger, shorter-haired Cepheus Major. Cepheus stepped forward, lowering his hood, looking slightly shocked as he stopped beside Avery.  
  
"Caelum Nott."  
  
Another figure walked almost eagerly to the line and stopped beside Cepheus, grinning at the circle as he lowered his hood.  
  
" . . . and Blaise Zabini."  
  
/Blaise's here?/ Harry thought frantically as he saw Alada Avery's smug face fall in shock.  
  
Then he felt himself move forward slowly, shakily. If he'd had control over the body he was in, his mouth would have dropped. He was in Blaise's body. That explained the different feeling. He was now a girl.  
  
Harry stopped beside Caelum and turned toward the man as the others did, lowering his hood. Harry could feel the terrible fear that coursed through Blaise, and he wondered what in Merlin's name could make his friend so frightened -  
  
That is, of course, until he noticed a certain pattern among the children who had been called forward. Blaise, Avery, Nott, Cepheus - the children with the Mark.  
  
And then, before he could think another thought, someone's wand was at his arm, his sleeve had been forced up over his shoulder, and there was nothing but pain. Blaise was screaming, Harry was screaming, the other children being branded were screaming -  
  
Harry sat straight up in the hospital bed, long hair flying as he looked around wildly. White, white, too much white. Where was Blaise? He looked to the bed next to his. There she was. Sleeping. He threw his covers off and fell off his bed in an attempt to get up, landing with a thud on the floor. He leaped up and scrambled over to Blaise. He leant over her and shook her shoulders furiously.  
  
"Wha' . . . go 'way . . .wanna sleep . . ." Blaise mumbled, dark brow furrowed as she tried to return to sleep.  
  
"Blaise! Blaise, get up!" Harry hissed (in English).  
  
"Tell Sprout I won' make it today, Harry . . ." Blaise continued muttering, trying to roll over.  
  
"Blaise, get the hell up and explain to me just why you tried to kill yourself!"  
  
It took a moment for that statement to register with sleepy Blaise, but when it did her dark eyes shot open. She half-rose and glanced around.  
  
"Hospital wing." Harry answered her unasked question through gritted teeth. Blaise sensed his anger and slowly looked up at him like a puppy who knows what it's done wrong and is about to be hit. Oh, and how Harry wanted to hit her. Not only had she risked bleeding to death, but the worry she'd put Harry through when he saw her like that . . .  
  
It was only the firm belief that you never hit a girl that kept him from hitting her right across the face. He had to flex his fingers to keep himself from doing just that. Blaise saw the action and lowered her eyes.  
  
"Why did you do it Blaise?" Harry said, trying desperately to keep his voice steady. All of a sudden he wanted to cry. "You could have died! You could have bled to death! Do you have any idea what that was like for me? Or did you forget about this!" He shoved the Mark in her face. Blaise flinched and turned away. Harry caught a glimpse of tears on her cheeks.  
  
A pang of guilt stopped him. What did he want to get out of this, a broken friendship? A crying friend?  
  
He turned and stumbled to his hospital bed. He slumped onto it, shoulders hunched.  
  
"I'm sorry Blaise." He said quietly.  
  
"Did you have the dream?"  
  
Harry turned sharply. Blaise was watching him, a haunted look in her eyes.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The dream. Where I'm branded with the Mark."  
  
Harry stared at her. "Yes."  
  
Blaise heaved a sigh, looking bitterly at the sheets.  
  
"I have that nightmare at least once a week. I guess you got pulled into it because I was in so much turmoil about you. I'm sorry you had to see that, Harry."  
  
They were silent for a moment. Harry turned to her, opening his mouth to say something, when the doors burst open.  
  
Harry and Blaise both whirled to the door. Their mouths dropped when they saw who was there.  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know, late. Oh well. I've got a life too.  
  
Guess what, all you people trying to tell me Blaise Zabini is a guy? Go to mugglenet (dot com) and then characters. Blaise is "A Slytherin Girl"! Hah hah!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Carey Miles: Me likes pissed off Harry too! Blaise wasn't thinking very clearly. She'll be fine. Harry, as you read, had a nightmare - Blaise's nightmare. Here's your more!  
  
Lina Inverse the Dramata: There's a Harry Potter hater beside you? Gasp! Shame! I'm glad you liked that. It was fun to write.  
  
No one: Hey no one. I'm continuing.  
  
Fallen Dragon: Nyeh, I'm getting there.  
  
Them Girl: ::blushes ferociously:: Oh, stop. Really, I'm blushing!  
  
The Desert Fox: Yes, gory. Heh. There's a bit of gore in every story I write. Yes, it gives me the shudders. Bonding with Malfoy. Yuck. Voldemort, having a cow? Nah, he'd have a snake. Though the concept of Voldemort, who is clearly a male, producing anything from himself, is very disturbing. Gee, ya think Blaise likes Harry a bit more than friends? Yes, indeed. Major jealously will come from this eventually.  
  
Rayvern: I like being called evil. After all, I'm going out with Voldemort. Heh.  
  
Phoenix Flight: Indeed.  
  
Lkdfjd(Huh?): Love your name there. Thanks dude.  
  
Best friend: ::blushes:: I thought I told you to keep that a secret! Oh well, now the whole wizarding world knows that I'm going out with the most evil Dark Wizard for a century, Lord Voldemort. Oh, but don't we have fun?  
  
Rachel: Oh god, you had me laughing for ten minutes. Snape eating Sadie who's eating Malfoy? I'll have to put that in my story. Yes, it was about Blaise, as you see. No, I mean, is Boomerang in your head? Dagger: Bananas and boomerangs . . . get some better friends, Sauki. Me: Gasp! Don't insult Rachel! Dagger: whistles and walks off into a distant corner of my mind  
  
Anora: Yesh, shat wood hert ay leetle.  
  
Sherman: Forever and ever! Ah hah hah! ::evil laugh::  
  
Shinigami06: Heh heh . . . yeah, Ron's too prejudiced to accept Harry in Slytherin, in my opinion. I may be exaggerating a bit, but . . . Physically? As in . . . ::gasps:: the birds and the bees? Most likely not. It's mostly emotional, but as you read in the last chapter, they did feel a physical pull . . . is that's what you mean, then yes, it becomes physical when they are angry or separate for too long. Heh.  
  
Ian: Ah! I see! I was blind, but I see now! Hehe! Yesh, yesh, very good. Would you like a shmoke and a pancake? A what!? A pipe and a crepe? No. Ah, then there is no pleasing you, Austin Powers! That's not right! Ok, sorry, had to get that out of my system. Yeah, I think that's an awesome idea! And that accounts for why people would think he was Heir of Slythie in the second story (if I get so far). Halloween's coming soon! Yay!  
  
Jordan: Okay!  
  
Calani: Okay.  
  
Wink At J00: Haha! You're awesome! I love this kind of long, insane review. You oughta review more often! Thank you for the endless praise. More soon.  
  
Ryra Skorka: :blushes: you've read all my story now? Whoa.  
  
Sushinase: Oh quit it, you're making me blush!  
  
Chochang913: Snape? Erm, I think that since Harry doesn't have too much of a reason to hate Sev yet and Sev loved Lily and Harry is his and Lily's son, that they'll have a nice relationship. Of course, it won't be all sunshine and roses . . . unless you consider that to be evil sun rays giving off radiation and black wilted roses. Heh. Exaggeration. No, Draco won't be bonded. He doesn't have the Mark, so he can't be bonded. Well, as for Lucius . . . I don't know . . . I think he accepts Draco more than he does in the actual books. In the books I always got the impression that Lucius might have hit Draco. In this story, Lucius won't exactly protect his son, but . . . let's put it this way. If Draco got bonded (that hurts like hell) Lucius would hold him when Draco cried. Sweet, huh?  
  
Christopher: You know, I do have my own life.  
  
SugarGirl: Again, I am not just a mindless writing tool. I have a life.  
  
SEP: WHAT IS IT WITH YOU PEOPLE! My life does not focus around Harry Potter fanfictions! GEEZ! 


	9. A Lion's Roar And A Snake's Hiss

Draco Malfoy was striding toward them.  
  
Only he didn't wear the usual smug, superior smirk. No, he looked panicked. Even his slick blonde hair was disheveled. Harry and Blaise shared a quick look.  
  
"Er, what is it?" Blaise asked semi-politely. Malfoy shot her a surprised look.  
  
"Zabini, my father just suddenly appeared in the Slytherin common rooms and told me to find you. And ask you who you're bonded to."  
  
Blaise turned white. She looked at Harry, panic written clearly on her face. Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco.  
  
"And why would he want to know that?"  
  
Malfoy looked at him as though he were the stupidest person in the world.  
  
"How the hell did you get into Slytherin, Potter? My father is the head of the Death Eaters."  
  
Harry's mouth opened a little bit in surprise. Of course, his brain spat at him. Blaise must have been branded at a Death Eater meeting. The man calling names must've been Malfoy's dad.  
  
"Who is it Zabini?" Malfoy turned back to Blaise. Blaise paled further, mouthing wordlessly and looking at Harry. It dawned on Malfoy. "Potter? You're bonded to /Potter/?"  
  
Harry nodded, lowering his eyes.  
  
"And here I thought you had better taste than that, Zabini. Oh well, according to my father you're to come too, Potter."  
  
"Why?" Blaise's question was spoken softly. Malfoy turned and gave her a hard look.  
  
"I think you know."  
  
Blaise swallowed.  
  
Malfoy turned and walked back out of the hospital wing. Blaise rose wordlessly and followed him. Harry, feeling quite bewildered, jumped up and followed her.  
  
They strode through the corridors without meeting a soul. Then again, it was nearing midnight.  
  
Once at the portrait, Draco mumbled the password. The door opened and he stepped in, face automatically turning toward the right. Harry suspected that this was where Draco's father was. Blaise stepped in and looked that way as well, but Harry noticed her pale significantly. He hurried in after Blaise and shut the door after him. When he looked back to Blaise, he saw something that scared him very much.  
  
Standing in the middle of the room was Draco Malfoy's father.  
  
He was tall, and fairly scrawny, dressed in plain black robes. His white- blonde hair was long and silky, touching probably his shoulder blades. He was leaning slightly on a thin black cane with a handle of a carved snake. His face was pale and pointed, like an older version of Draco. His eyes were cold, steel gray.  
  
But that wasn't what frightened Harry.  
  
It was the fact that he had one hand around Blaise's throat, holding her to him, and the other hand's long fingers were caressing her cheek.  
  
With a snarl of animalistic rage, Harry rose into the air, feet dangling several feet from the floor. The lamps that lit the common room shattered and fell to the ground and a wave of icy cold darkness swept over the four occupants of the room.  
  
Draco's father looked up immediately and was met with the sight of a furious Harry Potter, hovering in the air so high that he had to look up to see the boy's face. His long black hair whirled around his face in the cutting wind that tore through the common room, whipping across the boy's suddenly black eyes and sharp, angry face. Harry's arms were at his sides, fists clenched, and his robes blew around him, twisting and turning. Draco's father squinted slightly at the boy. Little blood red flames licked around Harry's frame, never catching fire to him.  
  
"PUT HER DOWN!" Harry bellowed, and an echo of a lion's roar seemed to follow his loud words. "NOW!"  
  
Draco's father, very much intimidated, dropped the girl.  
  
Immediately the wind ceased, the fire disappeared, and Harry dropped to the ground. He had crossed the room in what seemed like one step and had grabbed Blaise in his arms. With a cat's agility he darted to the opposite corner of the room, setting Blaise on a chair by the long-dead fire. Her dark eyes were wide, watching him with astonishment.  
  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked softly, and Blaise could have sworn he was nearly hissing like a snake would.  
  
"Y-yes." She stuttered. Harry's eyes, still black, grew hard and he turned back to Draco's father.  
  
"If you ever touch her again you will not live to regret it." He whispered threateningly. A small wind cut through the room, and this time a definite snake's hiss lingered at his words.  
  
However, Draco's father had regained some semblance of his self- composure and straightened up, smiling smugly.  
  
"Will I? Going to kill me with your bare hands?" the man shook his head. "No, I think I'll be able to touch that girl again very soon."  
  
Harry seethed. He clenched his fists and the whole room seemed to push inward (1). He gritted his teeth.  
  
"IF YOU EVER TOUCH HER AGAIN, YOU WILL NOT LIVE TO REGRET IT!" Harry bellowed. The roar followed him.  
  
Sleepy Slytherins had begun poking their heads around the stairs leading to the dormitories when Harry had first yelled, and now their number grew rapidly. Draco's father glanced around at them  
  
"Go back to your dormitories." He said shortly. The Slytherins who recognized Lucius Malfoy nodded, rather grudgingly, and pulled those who didn't with them back up the stairs. Once all the Slytherins had cleared off, Malfoy's father pointed his cane at the stairways and muttered silencing and impenetrable charms.  
  
Harry's eyes returned to green as he wondered at what Malfoy Senior was doing. His curiosity overwhelmed his anger and he glanced around the common room. Blaise was laying on the chair, exactly as he'd put her down, watching him with wide eyes. Harry turned to look for Draco and found him standing in a corner, watching him intently.  
  
"What?" Harry snapped. Draco looked behind Harry. Harry turned around.  
  
"I assume this is who you have bonded with, Zabini?" Malfoy Senior had started walking toward Blaise.  
  
"Don't take another step." Harry said softly. Malfoy Senior turned to him angrily.  
  
"And what gives you the right to command me? Who in the world do you think you are?"  
  
Harry grinned, rather suddenly, and put Malfoy Senior off-guard. "I'm Harry Potter. And who might you be?"  
  
"L-Lucius Malfoy." Said the man, startled by Harry's grin.  
  
Harry's eyes darkened suddenly, and his grin faded. "I swear on my dead mother's grave that if you take one more step near to Blaise, I will kill you. 'With my bare hands.' " He said, mocking Malfoy. Lucius smiled coldly and took a step forward.  
  
Harry snarled. His hand shot up, pointing at Lucius Malfoy, and an arrow of white-hot flame raced at the man. Lucius flinched, stumbling backward, and the arrow of flame barely missed his head. Lucius straightened up, looking at Harry with a quite terrified expression.  
  
"If you know what's best for yourself," Harry began softly, "you'll leave now."  
  
Lucius Malfoy tried his best to walk confidently and purposefully to the common room door, but his cane was shaking.  
  
"Whoa, Potter." Draco said as soon as Lucius was out of the common room. "Where'd you learn that?"  
  
"Learn what?" Harry said absently, at Blaise's side and examining the red marks on her neck.  
  
"That self-levitation and the fiery stuff!" Draco exclaimed. Harry took out his wand and pointed it at Blaise's neck. She flinched. Harry looked up at her face quickly.  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you Blaise." He whispered. She stared at him with wide eyes.  
  
"But what about all that stuff you did?" she whispered back. Draco, feeling ignored, crossing his arms and tapped his foot.  
  
"I have no idea where I learned that," Harry answered, directing his answer partly to Draco and partly to Blaise.  
  
"It was pretty bloody cool." Draco muttered, looking at the floor.  
  
"Thanks, Draco." Harry replied, then muttered the bruise-healing charm. The long red marks faded back to Blaise's natural paleness.  
  
Draco Malfoy, for once not having a good comeback, fell silent.  
  
A/N: For the (1), I meant it in a sort of Matrix way, when Neo flexes his arms and the walls push in, then out. Yeah.  
  
ATTENTION! There's two ways I can go with this. In the morning Draco can pretend that he never acted even the least bit nice to Harry or Blaise and go back to hating them, or they can be friends. I was leaning toward them being friends, but I think you guys should pick, since you have to put up with my bad decisions all the time. Review and tell me what you think!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Cat: Sure. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Carey Miles: Yes, it's evil. Pat on the back. Very sad. Sad, sad, sad. Yup. Yeah, lots of unfinished stories. Blech. And ::blushes:: I'm not really that good. I suck compared to people like Barb. Nee. Not sure about your sanity . . . and for Snape's Daughter, it'll be updated whenever I get the chapters out. Nah hah!  
  
Star Mage: Thanks.  
  
Them Girl: Thank you. I wasn't sure if Blaise seemed quite real, but you've reassured me!  
  
Ian: Erm . . . it's okay . . . here's a tissue . . . Okay. Harry may be a spy, depends. Heh, heh, okay . . . apparently you like your dog . . .  
  
Litine: Thank you.  
  
Rachel: HI RIYE! Pyro says hi! Hehe, Falcon, that was a good one. Saverne: If you take a frown and turn it upside down, the person you are holding by the ankles will soon pass out. Dagger: That's lovely, Savvy. Saverne: DON'T CALL ME THAT HIDEOUS NAME! Pyro: Alright, break it up, break it up.  
  
Kat-tak: Glad you like it.  
  
SEP: That's okay. I was mad because people are very inconsiderate of others' time.  
  
Erin: DO I MIND?! ARE YOU NUTS? Of course I don't mind, silly! And yes, I wanted to give Blaise some fame . . .  
  
Desert Fox: Well, see, Harry usually wakes her up, or then again, that's what's implied. You know. Hah hah, you're a riot. Hee hee . . . you never know with people like our dearest Voldie . . . He might be a girl in disguise. Yes, feel the sharp sting of my biting wit! Up your kilt! Wait a minute . . . what jealously? What d'you mean? Melissa? Mandy? Huh? But yeah, I agree. Yeah, you're right, but hey! Oh well! Um, let's see. Lily and Sev where really good friends, and, erm, something happened, you know . . . and she got pregnant. I dunno what was going on with her and James then, but they must've gotten married soon after and then Harry came along. Sev had black hair, so did James, so they figured he just got the texture (how slickish it was) from Lily, like he got his eyes and skin. He had baby fat on his face so that covered up the angles of his face. Basically, he just looked like he took after his mother a lot. Anything else unclear? Feel free to ask.  
  
Prongs: Oh, thank you. I'm glad it's a compliment!  
  
Frustrated: I'm sorry, you incomprehensive idiot. I think of Blaise as a female, and that's how she is in my story. If I thought of Draco as a female, Draco would be a female in my story. There's nothing you can do to change that, so how about you run along and bother someone else.  
  
Ryra: Kay, Ryra. 


	10. Speculation

"Yes! As soon as he got back from taking you to get your stuff, he was absolutely awful to us Gryffindors . . . he didn't like that Ron Weasley very much so he asked him all these questions . . . of course, I knew the answers, but Ron didn't. He took away a bunch of points, too!"  
  
"I didn't think it was that bad."  
  
"Yes, well, that's because you're his favorite student. You could get away with lighting off a Filibuster Firework in Snape's class."  
  
. . .  
  
"Hey, quit it with the smugness Draco."  
  
"Sorry, can't help it. Comes naturally."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"You three are like children." He interrupted. Blaise feigned confusion.  
  
"We are children."  
  
"By the way, Draco, what exactly did your dad want to see Blaise and I for?" Harry lowered his voice, turning to the silver-haired boy. Draco's smirk dropped. He glanced at the Great Hall.  
  
People who noticed Draco sitting with Harry, Blaise, and Hermione had been shocked at first and pointed the fact out to all their friends. At first Draco had been uncomfortable at the extra attention, but he'd gradually relaxed. Although Harry and Blaise were calling him by his first name, Hermione tried not to speak to him much and he called them all by their surnames. Harry had looked up to the Staff Table to find Dumbledore nodding approvingly and Snape watching him with a very curious expression indeed.  
  
"Well, he told me that there was something you had to do in five years or you'd die, Potter." Draco whispered. Harry leaned forward slightly.  
  
"What do I have to do?"  
  
"Er, he said you had to get the Dark Mark."  
  
Harry sat back so fast he nearly toppled over his chair.  
  
"What!"  
  
Several people at the Slytherin table were looking at them funny. Harry caught Cepheus Major's eye for a moment.  
  
"Yeah, I can't believe he hit you with that Bludger!" Blaise said quickly, looking outraged. Anyone who'd been watching them turned away, rolling their eyes. Quidditch.  
  
Everyone but Cepheus Major, that is. Harry held his eyes for a few more moments before the other boy looked down at his plate. His empty plate.  
  
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry, I really have completely ruined your life, I'm so -" Blaise sobbed, near tears.  
  
"Hey, hey, Blaise, it's okay, calm down, it's okay." Harry muttered soothingly, putting his hand on her back. She sniffled, staring at her breakfast.  
  
"Look, here's the post." Hermione said awkwardly. Harry looked up. Sure enough, owls were flocking into the Great Hall. He looked to the table and quickly snatched up Sadie, for fear she might be mistaken as a treat.  
  
A regal, chocolate brown owl landed on Draco's shoulder. He untied the newspaper it carried and opened it up. His owl sipped from Harry's glass of pumpkin juice before taking off, nearly smacking Harry with it's tail feathers.  
  
"Hey, look at this." Draco said, shoving the newspaper at Harry. He took it and looked over the headline. 'Daily Prophet', it read. 'Gringotts Break-In Latest'.  
  
" 'Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July,' Hey, that's my birthday! 'widely believed to be the work of Dark witches or wizards unknown.' "  
  
"What, your birthday is believed to be the work of Dark wizards?" Blaise asked, looking up with red eyes.  
  
"No, the break-in at Gringotts. Listen: 'Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.' "  
  
"That's weird." Hermione said, looking thoughtful. "You're not supposed to be able to get into the vaults, or even near without a goblin. I wonder what they were looking for . . ."  
  
"Who knows." Draco said moodily, glancing around the Hall again.  
  
A/N: Okay guys, it's really short but I need an idea badly for how they're going to find Fluffy. I considered having Ron challenge them to a duel, but that wouldn't work. If you have even the slightest idea, please, please, PLEASE review and tell me! I really need an idea so I can get cracking on the next chapter!  
  
Fifth book is out tomorrow! Oh my holy cows! I can't wait!  
  
Oh, and be warned, people! The next chapter is going to be really, really long, so it may take a while! But hopefully you'll be happy with it. Would you guys like me to start a 'Next Chapter:' thing at the end of each chapter? I will if that's what you want! Review and tell me!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Desert Fox: Well, Snape's going to wait for a while. He'll tell Harry eventually. Maybe third book. Or fourth. I dunno. Yeah, I'm surprised Harry didn't leave too. He could've brought his stuff to Mrs. Figg's when the Dursleys had to leave and then just left. Sheesh! Well, in the books the Sorting Hat wanted to put Harry into Slytherin, so it was really only Harry telling the Hat to put him in Gryffindor that originally got him into the lion's House. So basically, left to it's own devices, the Hat went on instinct and put Harry in Slytherin. I'm glad you like my story, but you really have to read the books! Yes, I do think Hermione would hang out with Harry at the Slytherin table. She doesn't have any friends in Gryffindor (even in the books this is true until Harry and Ron befriend her), so she hangs with Harry and Blaise. Yes, Harry got Parseltongue from dear Voldemort. When Voldie's curse reflected off baby Harry, some of his powers must have been transferred, including Parseltongue. Even in the books. I know a few words of Latin. Yes, see, Lily loved Harry so much that it invoked an ancient magic that protected him. Voldemort doesn't understand love, so his curse came back to him. Again, Lily's love protected Harry. Voldemort has never been loved so he doesn't know what it feels like and doesn't understand it. Yes, a movable tattoo. I think it's kind of neat. Malfoy can do what? Madam Hooch. From the books. Flying instructor. Hey, don't make fun of my ideas! If you don't like it keep your mouth shut. Yes, Peeves will be in here soon. No, actually, Blaise and Harry won't start snogging each other. Thank you for your time.  
  
Rachel: No, Dagger doesn't talk much. He's pretty quiet. Jell-O is the food of happiness! Can I put that in a story? I think you can use Hotmail . I like Boomerang!  
  
Slim: Well, only Alada Avery, Caelum Nott, Blaise, and Cepheus Major  
were branded. Blaise and Cepheus  
don't like the Mark or Voldemort. Avery and Nott, on the other hand,  
are true Dark supporters. So you see, that doesn't quite work.  
  
Wink At J00: Nope! Snape's not the visitor! Hah, hah! It makes tons of sense, don't worry. I'm used to reading crazy weird reviews and making sense of them.  
  
RookRaven: Thanks.  
  
Desert Fox: HAVE I READ THE BOOKS? HAVE YOU READ THE BOOKS, YOU FREAKING IDIOT? Mandy Brocklehurst, yes. MILLICENT BULSTRODE! Not Melissa! And Millicent Bulstrode is a Slytherin, a big burly Slytherin. How can you picture Harry with her or Mandy Brocklehurst? No, Lily and Severus did not marry, LILY AND JAMES DID! Read the books! Dude, up your kilt is a saying! GEEZ! And who knows how Lucius got in? That's his secret. You REALLY need to read the books, so GO READ THEM!  
  
Cr1Ms0n^D3v1L: No, Harry and Blaise won't shag. Yeah, that's a good idea on why Draco wasn't Harry's friend . . . I like it.  
  
Star Mage: Yay! That's what I wanted too!  
  
Gryphnwng: Me too. It's so fun to write Slytherin Harry! Yes, Harry has plenty of power. Hey, you're right! Side with whoever's strongest. I'll have to have Draco admit that at first he was only friends with them because of that. You know, later when they're real friends. A few books away. Thank you!  
  
Gizachick: You're exactly right.  
  
Nemati: Thank you! Yeah, some animosity between Draco and Hermione would be good. It's only natural.  
  
Rachel: What did you watch? Does Dagger like to torture? Yeah, he does. A lot. He really likes it. Beware. WHOA! Falcon's awesome! I think she and Dagger would like each other very much. Poor Riye. Screams like a girl. Oh! Is Boomerang okay? Tell her to get smaller boomerangs. Heehee . . . I like your buddies. They're funny. Mine are all quiet and death-obsessed. Yes, I'll try to update more often, I swear! Don't throw your boomerang at me, oh mighty queen of Jell-O!  
  
Das: Yes, friends! Your wish has come true! Bow down to the mighty genie of the floorboard!  
  
Carey Miles: You sure? I know, poor Lucy. Hopefully he didn't pee his pants. Your sanity's faltering? Wow. I didn't know you had any.  
  
Wytil: I have no idea. Hee hee . . . I dunno. I'll do a Snape POV soon, if that's what you mean.  
  
Adenara Yatman: Thanks.  
  
Ryra: Sorry, buddy, but I've made up my mind! Ah hah hah! Oh, you're so going to kill me when I post the next chapter of Snape's Daughter . . . I'm going to get crucified.  
  
Sushinase: Yessir, they're friends all right!  
  
Snape's Daughter: I love your name! It's so beautiful! I'm glad you like my story! It's loads of fun to write. Yeah, Blaise as a boy is just . . . awkward. 


	11. Of Three Headed Dogs

"You know you must tell him, Severus."  
  
Professor Snape let his head droop into his hands. He was tired. More tired than he had been for ten years.  
  
It was Dumbledore's fault. Dumbledore's words that caused him such unrest. Dumbledore's constant prodding to tell the boy.  
  
Severus Snape was Harry Potter's father.  
  
There was no denying it now. In the Potions lessons he'd had with the boy he'd completely ignored him. He noticed that the boy usually worked with Draco Malfoy now and had wondered about his change of heart toward the blonde. Harry's other friend, Blaise Zabini, worked with the Know-It-All Granger.  
  
Severus had inconspicuously added a certain Potion to the curriculum. A Potion that, when reheated at approximately one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, would provide parents' names of the one (or ones) who made it. He'd only given the ingredients for the Potion, not giving any details about its use. No one seemed to notice the lack of information; no one save Granger. He'd noticed her baffled expression all through the previous lesson as she and Zabini made the Potion. Severus had found the Potion in an old, forgotten book in the library. The book was really the only of its kind and he'd taken it, so that Granger couldn't have found the answer if she'd looked.  
  
Severus snorted inwardly. Of course Granger would look, she's scour the entire library before she gave up.  
  
He'd kept his eye on Potter and Malfoy's potion throughout the class, mostly watching them from his desk while pretending to be grading papers. He'd been smart in pairing Longbottom with Parvati Patil, who was an average potion maker but managed to keep the cauldron from exploding for the lesson. At the end of class, when Potter had given him the potion, he'd placed it very carefully on his desk.  
  
He'd been extremely irritable for the last lesson, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw third years, being anxious to reheat the potion and see. Thankfully there were no major accidents, and he was alone.  
  
Immediately he had conjured flames and poured a sample of the potion into a small cauldron. He'd watched the temperature diligently, and the second it had risen to one hundred degrees, there were letters in the potion.  
  
First had come Narcissa Black. Then Lucius Malfoy. He'd frowned a little, impatient for Potter's parents to show up.  
  
Lily Evans. And then - Severus had held his breath - Severus Snape.  
  
If he had not been in need of his reputation he would have ran all the way to Dumbledore's office.  
  
And now here he was, minutes after telling Dumbledore everything. And then he had to prod him with that infernal suggestion.  
  
"I can't tell him, Albus. You have no idea . . . he will not like it at all. Me, the greasy Potions Master at Hogwarts, the one everyone hates . . . Harry Potter's father? If the Daily Prophet were to get wind of this . . ."  
  
"They won't Severus. You must keep this a secret -"  
  
"Exactly!"  
  
" - between you and Harry."  
  
Severus was silent, clenching his teeth.  
  
"You know the only reason you aren't telling him is because you are afraid what he will think."  
  
He looked up sharply. Dumbledore's face was quite serious.  
  
"I understand, Severus, but there is no need for worry."  
  
"Yes, there is, don't you see? He's been told his father was a hero, a brave man, and what will he think when he is told that his father isn't a hero, only a greasy old bad-tempered man who's bitter to everyone?"  
  
"You seem to call yourself greasy quite a bit, Severus. You can easily fix that part."  
  
A bottle of quite clear liquid appeared in front of Severus. He stared at it for a moment. Dumbledore obviously thought it was a good sign that he was considering shampoo, for he pushed the bottle toward him.  
  
"You really must improve your self-esteem, Severus. Perhaps if you altered your hygiene habits, you would feel better about your appearance."  
  
Severus looked back up, a mask of indifference upon his face.  
  
"You know it won't matter. You know that I can't stop the way my skin works."  
  
"No, but you can try and improve it."  
  
After a moment's consideration, he snatched up the bottle.  
  
"I'll try it." He said grudgingly.  
  
"See what an effect Harry's having already? If I'd said this to you last year you would have stormed out on me after hexing my chair so that it burned a hole through my robes once I sat down."  
  
"That's exactly what I /did/ do, Albus."  
  
"Oh, yes, you did, didn't you? I /do/ remember walking into the Great Hall with a rather large hole in my nice purple robes, after all. I seem to recall the Weasley twins absolutely roaring with laughter at my flowered pajamas."  
  
"You could always have changed into more suitable clothes before going in for breakfast rather than leaving on pajamas - flowered pajamas at that."  
  
"Yes, well . . ." Dumbledore looked up quite dreamily. "I always did like those pajamas."  
  
* * *  
  
Severus pulled the bottle of shampoo from its hiding spot in his pocket once he'd reached his rooms and stared at it. It was obviously a potion. There was no label at all.  
  
He'd been avoiding a shower for nearly thirty minutes now, trying to occupy himself with grading papers. But it hadn't worked, and his mind always returned to Harry. Harry Potter, /his son/. Severus got a strange feeling in his stomach every time he thought about it, like his stomach was warming up a little. It felt rather . . . nice, to be honest. Severus sighed and looked around his office.  
  
Face set in determination, he stood walked into his bathroom, armed with shampoo.  
  
"Hermione - what in the world - how did you -?" Harry spluttered when a bushy head appeared next to him in the Slytherin common room later that night. It was almost empty; only Harry, Blaise, Draco, and a first year remained up. The first year shot a curious look at Hermione before rising and going upstairs.  
  
"You may want to leave before that first year tells the whole House there's a Gryffindor in the Slytherin common room." Draco muttered, taking his eyes off his Potions text to look at Hermione. Harry could tell that Draco was making a huge effort not to insult, yell at, or even sneer at Hermione. He was quite proud of the blonde for having restrained from all of these when he'd obviously been brought up to hate Muggle-borns like Hermione.  
  
"I just had an idea. Remember that potion we made in Snape's class today?"  
  
"Yeah, the one you kept muttering about, saying he should have given us more information?" Blaise said lazily, trying to keep her eyes open.  
  
"Well, he should have. We don't even know what it does, or the name of it! What if it appears on a test? But, anyway, I've had an idea. I overheard some seventh year Gryffindors talking about a book full of unusual and rare potions in the library. It should still be open - it's not that long past dinner - and I think we need to get it. This could seriously affect our O.W.L.s, or even of N.E.W.T.s! We need to find more information."  
  
"Why're you telling us this?" Blaise muttered sleepily.  
  
"I just told you," said Hermione, a bit exasperatedly (is that a word?), "you should know what we find out too. Besides, I'll need help looking for it."  
  
"All right, Hermione, but if we don't find it, the blame's on you." Harry said, getting up from his chair and putting his quill and Herbology essay on the table beside him. Draco read another line of Potions text before bookmarking his page and putting his book on Harry's essay.  
  
"Hey! My ink could still be wet!" Harry said indignantly, pulling a sleeve of his robe down. Draco grinned at him.  
  
"No it isn't. You haven't written anything for at least ten minutes. Unless you have ink that refuses to dry?"  
  
"Neh . . ." Harry turned away and hauled Blaise to her feet.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Library." He said.  
  
"Oh." She replied and opened her eyes.  
  
Harry gave his sleepy friend a small grin before looking at his arm. He rolled up his sleeve quickly, facing his arm to the wall.  
  
Sadie was looking at the snake tattoo and hissing slightly.  
  
"Sadie?" he said very quietly, hoping no one else heard.  
  
"What issss thissss, Harry?" she hissed softly. Harry's heart stung - his friend sounded extremely betrayed.  
  
"Nothing. I . . . I'll tell you later, when we get back. I promise." He whisper-hissed. She gave him a sad look before slithering back up his shoulders and to his other arm. She curled around a particularly large scar around his biceps and flicked her tongue against his skin.  
  
"Ready?" Hermione said, startling Harry. He turned, letting his sleeve drop, and nodded.  
  
The four - Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Blaise - made their way quickly toward the library. Hermione and Blaise walked in front, talking animatedly about what the potion might do. Harry and Draco walked about a foot behind the girls. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco shoot Hermione a loathing-filled look.  
  
"She's not that bad, you know." Harry said quietly. Draco looked at him.  
  
"Who?" His voice was full of the usual arrogance.  
  
"Hermione."  
  
Draco sighed, staring at the back of Hermione's head. "She's a Mudblood."  
  
"A what?" Harry asked. Draco stared at him as if this was the stupidest question in the world. "Hey, I spent nine years living with muggles and one year on the streets of London; don't give me that look."  
  
"Mudblood. As in, not pureblood. Muggle parentage. They have dirty blood. They foul up the school."  
  
It was Harry's turn to stare.  
  
"Dirty blood? Foul up the school? In what way?"  
  
But Draco didn't have the chance to answer. They had reached the library.  
  
Madam Pince gave the group of four her usual hawk-like glare. Hermione hurried them past her.  
  
"She's not fond of young people in her library. She thinks they'll mess up the books. She's not so harsh to me because she knows I love books." Hermione whispered to them. Blaise grinned.  
  
"Where's this book at, anyway?" Harry asked. Hermione's eyebrows contracted and she led them deeper into the library.  
  
"Here!" she positively squealed, pulling a thick leather-bound book off a shelf. She flipped it open immediately, looking over the pages. "Over a thousand pages, over five hundred potions!"  
  
"Hermione's in heaven," whispered Blaise.  
  
"Oh, let's hurry and check it out," Hermione said, already darting toward Madam Pince.  
  
"What is it with her and books?" Draco asked. Harry shrugged.  
  
"She loves them."  
  
He shivered slightly when he felt Sadie's forked tongue brush against his skin. He still had to explain to her about the Mark he and Blaise shared.  
  
/You okay, Harry?/  
  
He looked at Blaise. She was leading them after Hermione.  
  
/Fine/, he replied. He had almost gotten used to thinking at Blaise and having her reply, and her feelings had died down a little when he'd become used to them. Harry strained to feel what Blaise was feeling just now . . . concern.  
  
Madam Pince glared at them again while she checked out Hermione's book, but her gaze softened a little when she caught sight of Hermione's ecstatic face as she took the book back.  
  
Harry glanced around once before they left the library, brushing his dark hair out of his face.  
  
"Why is your hair so long anyway?" Draco asked him as they fell in line behind Hermione and Blaise.  
  
"I like it long." Harry said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, put it this way, can you imagine me with short hair?" he turned to Draco. Draco was silent for a moment, then shook his head.  
  
"You'd look like a nitwit."  
  
"Oh, you mean I'd look like you?" Harry said teasingly. Draco glared at him before realizing he was joking.  
  
Suddenly the staircase they were climbing gave a lurch and started moving. All four of them leapt to the railing and grabbed it.  
  
"What's happening?" Harry yelled.  
  
"Didn't your prefect tell you? The staircases will move and change places whenever they want to!" Hermione replied, sounding frightened.  
  
They stopped moving. Harry looked up ahead of them. A tall, mahogany colored door loomed at the head of the staircase.  
  
"Let's . . . let's go back down and go around." Hermione said, clearly unnerved by the door. Draco looked at her incredulously.  
  
"Are you crazy? No way! Let's check it out."  
  
"No! It's nearly curfew, we don't want to be caught out after dark!" Hermione hissed. The two glared at each other.  
  
"I'm up for exploring," Blaise put in. Hermione turned to Harry with a withering look.  
  
"It's up to you Harry."  
  
Harry kept his eyes trained on the door. How could even out their arguments? He didn't want Draco losing it and insulting Hermione; he's been doing so well in keeping his tongue in check.  
  
"Let's just see what's behind the door - just a quick look, then we'll head back." He said quickly when Hermione glared at him. "Just a minute to see, then we'll go back, Hermione. We'll be back in our dorms by curfew."  
  
"Alright." Hermione sighed. She looked up at the door apprehensively.  
  
"Come on, then!" Draco said and strode up the staircase. After exchanging looks, Harry and Blaise followed. Hermione, biting her lip, brought up the rear.  
  
Draco pushed at the door. It didn't budge. Brow furrowed, he pushed harder.  
  
"Well, it's locked, let's go!" Hermione said cheerfully, clutching the book to her.  
  
"Hang on," said Blaise, pulling out her wand. Hermione's face fell. Blaise tapped the door. Nothing happened.  
  
Draco growled and threw himself at the wall.  
  
To their surprise and utter amazement, the door swung open creakily.  
  
"Yes!" Draco hissed and hurried inside. Blaise followed.  
  
"Come on, 'Mione." Harry said before jumping in too. Hermione followed.  
  
Harry stared. There were cobwebs everywhere, lining the walls of the dark corridor. A few unmoving statues rested against the walls, chipped and covered in dust. There was an ominous feeling about the hallway. And at the very end of the corridor, a tall, dark door loomed.  
  
"Okay, we've seen, let's go now!" Hermione said, a bit hysterically.  
  
"What? But we've only just got here! Let's at least see what's behind that other door." Draco protested.  
  
"Am I the only one who feels like we're intruding?" Blaise said quietly, looking around.  
  
"We're not supposed to be here!" Hermione said. "This must be the third floor corridor! Don't you remember? We're not allowed! If Filch doesn't catch us, Mrs. Norris will! We have to get out of here!" She turned to go and gasped loudly.  
  
Harry whirled around. A scrawny, dust-colored cat was peering up at them.  
  
"Oh no," said Harry. "Oh no."  
  
"Filch's cat." Hermione said sadly. "Filch'll be here any moment."  
  
"It was nice knowing you, Harry, Hermione, Draco." Blaise whispered, catching sight of the cat.  
  
"The door."  
  
"What?" Harry turned to stare at Draco. He was staring at the cat.  
  
"The door. You're right, Filch is going to catch us. We have to go through the door and hide until he's gone. We'll never make it out in time."  
  
As if to confirm Draco's story, they heard a faint wheezing sound and soft footsteps.  
  
"Let's go." Harry said.  
  
They turned and ran for the door.  
  
Harry reached it first. The streets hadn't left him with nothing: he was a good runner. But being a good runner didn't help when the door was locked.  
  
"It's locked!" He hissed, trying to budge it.  
  
"Goodbye, Harry. I hope I see you again some day." Blaise said, watching for Filch.  
  
"Oh, get out of the way!" Hermione pushed him away and whipped out her wand. "Alohomora!"  
  
With a creak the door started to swing open.  
  
They all piled in, shutting the door after them and listening for Filch.  
  
"Where are they, my sweet?" a wheezy voice reached them. Mrs. Norris meowed. There was silence for a moment. Harry turned to look at the room they were in.  
  
He stopped dead.  
  
"Never mind, they'll get what they're asking for. We'll catch them next time, my sweet."  
  
"Thank goodness, he's gone." Blaise sighed in relief.  
  
"Erm, guys?" Harry said in a shaking voice. The other three turned behind him and froze.  
  
A giant, three-headed dog blocked most of the room. It was growling slightly, razor-sharp teeth bared.  
  
"Maybe this is why the third floor corridor is forbidden," Blaise squeaked.  
  
"Yeah . . ." Harry breathed. The three-headed dog's growling grew louder.  
  
"M-maybe we should go . . ." Hermione suggested in a very small voice as the dog took a step toward them.  
  
"Let's do that." Draco said and whirled around, shoving the door open. He spilled out of the room, Hermione and Blaise not far behind. Harry leapt out after them.  
  
The four of them pushed at the door until it shut. As Hermione locked it again, Harry could hear the dog's vicious barks and a scarping of claws against wood. They leapt away from the door and hurried through the corridor.  
  
Harry sighed with relief as they reached the grand staircase. Blaise and Draco closed the dark door after them. He looked at Hermione. She was clutching the potions book to her, face very white.  
  
"Well, that was an interesting adventure." Blaise said as she started down the staircase.  
  
A/N: Wasn't that lovely? Eight pages! I'm so proud. Last time it was only two.  
  
Next chapter: Halloween!  
  
By the way, did anything happen on Halloween for the fifth book? I couldn't tell . . . and I didn't want to go back and reread it. I'm already three quarters of the way through rereading the whole book, so yay!  
  
Reviews:  
  
CassandrAIarwen: Hmm . . . that's a good idea.  
  
Wink At J00: Haha! Yesterday! I read from just past 8:00 AM to about 11:00 PM! I finished it all. I'm really quite sad at who died. I know, Harry really hasn't had much of a childhood. Then again, neither has Blaise, and I'm suspecting Draco didn't either. Really, Hermione's the one who ought to be the most childish, but instead, Blaise is. It's all very confusing.  
  
Gryphnwng: YES and I am SO mad at who dies! I won't say in case someone who hasn't read it yet is reading this now. Yep, up to the 3rd floor! Hmm . . . that may just work. Hey, how old are you? I'm 13. Heh.  
  
Desert Fox: Well, yeah, but the Dursleys would probably be happy. I dunno about what Dumbledore would do . . . probably track Harry down. No, the Slytherins don't all work for Voldemort. They're just more prone to it because they're generally the most power-hungry. People from other Houses work for Voldie as well . . . look at Peter Pettigrew! No, Snape doesn't have a removable tattoo. Only Blaise, Cepheus Major, Alada Avery, and Caelum Nott. They were . . . basically experiments of the Death Eaters'. Again, Harry and Blaise are not going to get married or snog or anything! I'm sorry I blew up at you, you just really ought to read the books; the fifth one is excellent. Heh, yeah I like Harry with Draco too, it just doesn't strike me as all that realistic. Well, in my story, Snape is Harry's dad, not James. You, however, like everyone else will have to wait for Snape to explain it. I, personally, have no idea so far. Up your kilt is a saying my friend and I invented. Yes, Lily and Snape make a great couple. Heehee!  
  
Xirleb70: Erm . . . well, they were making me mad. ::blushes:: really? It's bloody brilliant? ::hides face:: Oh, I know! Harry's mad all the time! Gosh!  
  
Nabiki: No, no, the scar does link him to Voldemort, but he has to get the actual Dark Mark, the one with the skull and snake together. He has a snake one, but he has to get the skull as well. Yeah, Draco will be a good friend. Yes, Harry's extremely protective over Blaise and them. You're right . . . I'll remember that. Snape should get to know Harry. But he may not tell him for a while.  
  
Carey Miles: Yeah . . . another addition to SSDE. You know, Super Sexy Death Eaters. Heh. There's five now! EXACTLY! The first chapters and the last! I love the way he was making Dudley mad! Hmm . . . if you were sent to Saint Mungo's then you might get a room by Gilderoy Lockhart! Lucky you!  
  
Shdurrani: Yeah, it seemed like a good idea for him to have Hermione as a friend. Oh, I don't know. I expected him to be, too, but you know, it would have been a bit much for him at the time. I love what Dumbledore said at the very end of the second to last chapter! (Constant vigilance . . . a bunch of people haven't read it yet, I don't want to give anything away)  
  
Toria: Yeah, it seemed kinda natural for Hermione to want to prove Ron and them wrong and be friends with Harry and Blaise.  
  
Boomerang-chan: Wow . . . I like your name! ::is suddenly speechless:: You . . . you . . . you did? Wow . . . Heh, I liked that chapter of Hagrid with a steak in his hand! I finished it all Saturday - read from just after eight AM to 11 PM with a few breaks for dinner and lunch, you know. YES! JELLO! The food of happiness! Oooooh . . . I LIKE Riye! BURNING TOASTED BAGELS WITH CREAM CHEESE! That's lovely, dear . . . don't forget your vegetables. Yes, I think it's your longest review too!  
  
SEP: Thanks! I thought it was neat too. Yes, happy writing to you too!  
  
Prongs: Hmm . . . good idea, but this one seemed to fit. Worked with the general plot, too. 


	12. Cepheus Major

Hermione didn't find the Potion they'd done. The book had a lot of unusual and interesting potions, but not the one they'd made. Hermione was confused and angry by the lack of information — she'd had the guts to ask Professor Snape but all she'd gotten was a point deduction for "being too nosy" — even Harry was becoming curious as to why they'd made something they didn't have a clue about. Blaise had suggested that it was a poison that even now was slowly killing them, but Hermione had fixed her with such a glare she'd disappeared behind her Transfiguration homework and hadn't emerged until Hermione had left.  
  
Hermione had enlightened them about the dog having been standing on a trapdoor. This had kept the three Slytherins busy for quite a while, Harry and Blaise shooting ideas to each other in their heads and Draco staring into the fire, apparently thinking hard.  
  
Harry had explained to Sadie about the Mark once she'd brought it up again (he'd been trying to put it off). His snake had actually been quite interested in the little tattoo, hissing at it to see if it replied. However, all the tattoo did was coil up in a ball and ignore her. Sadie never curled up on that arm again. She roosted on the other side of him.  
  
There was still some reluctance on Draco's part about being friends with Hermione, but he'd managed to hold a conversation on Charms homework without saying anything rude, although he'd not been able to meet her eyes. Still, it was an improvement.  
  
The rustling of hundreds of wings filled the Great Hall on Sunday morning and they all looked up. Harry's attention was caught by a long, thin package carried by six screech owls, along with everyone else's. The owls headed to the Slytherin table and the other Houses sighed wistfully, but kept their eyes on the package.  
  
Though Harry's face was a mask of stoic indifference when the owls dropped the package at his plate (it landed on Blaise's and Draco's plates as well and splattered them with bacon and, in Draco's case, syrup), inside he was utterly shocked. The owls gave him a look he could only interpret as stern before flapping their wings and taking off again. Before they had made it a few feet, another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.  
  
Wary of the thin package, Harry grabbed the letter first, aware that everyone's eyes were on him. He ripped it open and read it quickly, Draco and Blaise leaning over his shoulders.  
  
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. Inside is your new Nimbus Two Thousand. No one is to know you have this broomstick. Knowing all the dimwits of first years in this school, they'll be clambering after Dumbledore begging him for their own broomstick too. Flint and the rest of the team will be waiting for you on the Quidditch field tomorrow morning at five o'clock for your first training session. Again, whatever you do, do not open this at the table.  
  
Professor S. Snape  
  
Blaise gave a quiet little whoop and touched the parcel. Harry handed the letter to Hermione, who read it, frowning.  
  
"Well, don't open it then," she said and handed it back. Harry read it over once more before putting it in his pocket. As though the parcel didn't exist, he took a piece of bacon and chewed on it thoughtfully.  
  
When Harry didn't open the parcel, the rest of the school turned away, sighing. Finally, when enough people had returned to their food, Harry looked at the Staff table.  
  
Dumbledore was giving him a little smile. McGonagall was glaring over at Snape, who was smirking into his plate.  
  
Snape looked up and caught Harry's eye. The two stared at each other for a moment. Then Snape turned back to his plate, an alien expression fluttering across his face. Dumbledore bent in to say something to Snape and the black- haired man glared at him before looking back at Harry. Dumbledore too looked at Harry before turning to talk to McGonagall, who looked simply furious.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore and then Snape, who met his gaze for a moment before looking down, that strange expression on his face again. Harry wasn't comfortable being talked about when he couldn't hear what they were saying, but he watched Snape for another moment, curious about his expression.  
  
"Harry? Earth to Harry?"  
  
"What?" he said, looking at Blaise. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Come on, let's go back to the common room and open it!"  
  
Harry's eyes strayed to Hermione. She was rummaging around in her bag.  
  
"I forgot my Transfiguration book, I've got to go back to Gryffindor to get it. See you guys later!" she rose and turned to go after giving Harry a small smile.  
  
"Come on!" Blaise yanked on his arm. Harry nearly fell over as she lifted him up.  
  
"Hey, careful! That's where Sadie is, you know!" he hissed (not literally).  
  
"Oops."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and picked up the parcel very carefully. He then had to hurry after Blaise, who was halfway out of the Hall, Draco following.  
  
They were halfway through the entrance hall when they found the way down barred by Ron Weasley.  
  
"Get out of my way, Weasley!" Blaise was half-yelling at him. Ron turned to Harry. He grabbed the package and felt it.  
  
"That's a broomstick," he stated the obvious, jealously clouding his face. "You'll be in trouble now, Potter. First years aren't allowed them."  
  
"It's not just any broomstick," Draco said smugly, coming up in front to smirk at Ron, who turned red. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. Not that you'd know; if you even have a broomstick it's bound to be as old as Dumbledore."  
  
Ron's whole face turned brick red, making his freckles stand out rather unpleasantly. But before he could respond, Professor Flitwick appeared at Blaise's elbow.  
  
"Not arguing, I hope, boys and girls?" he squeaked.  
  
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Ron said immediately, some of the color on his face fading.  
  
"Yes, yes, that's right!" Flitwick beamed at Harry. "Professor Snape told me all about the circumstances, Potter. What model is it, again? I don't think Severus told me enough times . . ."  
  
"Nimbus Two Thousand, sir." Harry replied, noting the look of shock on Ron's face.  
  
"Yes, that was it, wasn't it. I do believe Professor Snape has been rubbing it in Professor McGonagall's face ever since Dumbledore approved it . . . I must be on my way, boys and girls, have a nice day!"  
  
And Flitwick scurried off. Draco shot another smug smirk at Ron before pushing past him. Blaise gave him a glare before following. Harry paused in front of him and took back his package. He gave Ron a long look. Ron looked down awkwardly. Harry went around him and followed his friends.  
  
Blaise led the way to the common room. While she skipped and hummed ahead of them, Draco dropped back to talk to Harry.  
  
"Who's Sadie?" he asked without preamble. Harry sighed and handed the parcel to Draco. He reached under his sleeve, not exactly eager to show Draco his scarred arm. He pulled out his little gray snake and held her out in front of the blonde boy. Draco jerked back, stumbling.  
  
"That issss not very nisssse . . ." Sadie hissed. "Am I that sssscary?"  
  
"Yes, you're terrifying." Harry replied softly.  
  
"You — you're a — a — a Parselmouth?" Draco stuttered.  
  
"Yes, that /is/ what Blaise called me." Harry said, remembering.  
  
"But — I mean — how did you — only Slytherin — "  
  
"Do you want me to tell you?"  
  
Draco nodded, still looking very confused. Harry glanced up ahead at Blaise, who was doing twirls as she skipped, then began to explain.  
  
"After Snape took me to get my stuff, I went out and sat on the grass to wait for Herbology to start. Someone told me to get out of their way and I looked down. There was Sadie. We talked for a minute but then class was over. My spider sense told me that it wouldn't be grand for people to see me talking to a snake, so I hid her up my sleeve. Quite cliché, actually."  
  
Harry couldn't explain the sudden bitterness he felt as he replaced Sadie. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Draco could obviously sense it too, because he looked up and met Harry's eyes.  
  
"I always have to hide everything." Harry burst out softly. "Everything. My scars, my Mark, my feelings, my past. It's always been that way; it always will be that way. If I wore a short sleeve shirt everyone would point and stare and gasp and say "Oh my god, look at that," and if I showed anyone my Mark they would all say I was in cahoots with the Death Eaters, and if I stopped hiding my feelings everyone would stare and wonder how I could feel such hate at such a young age. And if I stopped hiding my past . . . no one would want to know me."  
  
Draco was silent after Harry's outburst. The green-eyed boy turned away, ashamed of his outburst.  
  
"I'm sorry for embarrassing you the first day." He said quietly.  
  
"I can't say I wasn't angry." Draco responded. "But I got over it."  
  
Harry was about to open his mouth and ask why Draco was even friends with them, but he already knew the answer. He kept his mouth shut.  
  
"Unicorn blood!" Blaise sang as they reached the Slytherin common room (A/N: Finally! They've been walking forever!). The wall slid open and the three of them jumped in.  
  
But the common room wasn't empty.  
  
A/N: Yes, yes, lovely place to end. Okay, I know, I've done this before and kept going, so I think I'll just keep going before Harry kills me.  
  
Cepheus Major was sitting in a chair by the low fire, clutching the arms so hard his knuckles were white. He did not look up when Harry, Blaise, and Draco entered. Harry immediately looked at Blaise. Her face was strained and sad-looking.  
  
"Ceph?" she said softly. Cepheus ignored her. "Ceph?" she repeated as she walked forward. Draco gave Harry a questioning look but Harry's eyes were fixed on Blaise. She looked pained.  
  
When she was close enough, she put a hand on Cepheus' shoulder. The boy jerked away and his golden brown eyes shot up to look at Blaise. He looked behind her, to Harry and Draco, and jumped up. He snatched up his bookbag and strode quickly past them, out the door. He didn't look back.  
  
Blaise fell into the chair Cepheus had just been in. She buried her face in her hands. Harry moved forward and put a hand on her shoulder. He could feel her shaking as she tried not to sob.  
  
"We were best friends!" She cried out suddenly. "We did everything together! Now look at him! He doesn't eat, he doesn't talk, he hides behind his schoolwork! He won't talk to me! Look what those lousy Death Eaters did to him! I hate them! I hate them all!"  
  
Harry tried to send a comforting though to Blaise, but she pushed it away mentally.  
  
A moment was spent in awkward silence. Then Draco spoke up.  
  
"Let's . . . let's open Harry's broom. Then we'll . . . go flying or something."  
  
Harry sent a grateful thought to Draco, who averted his eyes and grabbed the broom. Blaise took her face out of her hands. Her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were flushed.  
  
"I think I'll be spending the whole school year crying." She said and smiled. Harry grinned and turned to his package. His eyes lit up. It might as well be Christmas to him. He slowly unwrapped the paper, treating each piece as though it was royalty. He knew, as the broom came into view, that the others were looking at him a little strangely, but he did his best to ignore it as he savored his present.  
  
Present. From Professor Snape.  
  
He grinned, almost laughing out loud.  
  
My first present is from Professor Snape.  
  
"What?!" Blaise jumped up. Harry and Draco both looked up quickly. "That's your first present?!"  
  
"Are you serious?" Draco put in. Harry almost blushed. He'd forgotten Blaise could hear his thoughts.  
  
"Yeah." He said shortly.  
  
"Wait, wait — you're telling me the Dursleys never gave you presents?" Blaise said, sounding shocked.  
  
"I told you the kind of things they did. If they locked me in a cupboard and called it my bedroom, do you really think they'd give me presents?" he spat out. He ripped off the rest of the wrapping paper, looking at the broom but not seeing it.  
  
"You're right. I mean, if they hit you, how could I expect them to give you presents?" Blaise said.  
  
"You're exactly right. What kind of — " Harry cut himself off as he realized what he had admitted. Blaise's mouth was open and Draco's eyes were wide. Harry stared at them for a moment, fear clouding his thoughts and his face, before bolting.  
  
All the way down the corridor he could hear Blaise and Draco shouting for him to come back. He didn't care who he ran into as he sprinted full-tilt up the steps. He didn't care what people would be whispering about him now as he reached the Great Hall and ran through it. The students and teachers still eating stopped and stared at him as he ran through, but he didn't care.  
  
He kept running across the grounds until he reached the Forbidden Forest. There, on the very edge of the trees, he collapsed. He curled up in a fetal position on his knees, head in his hands. They knew.  
  
They knew.  
  
He'd sworn not to tell anyone, and now they knew. They were coming after him, to question him, to stare at him with pity in their eyes. He didn't want that. He had to get away. But how?  
  
Suddenly something grabbed his arm firmly and heaved him to his feet, pulling him into the Forbidden Forest. His head jerked up in alarm.  
  
He was met with the golden brown eyes of Cepheus Major.  
  
"They won't look for you in here." Cepheus said. Harry stared at him for a moment. It was the second time he'd heard the boy speak.  
  
"How did you —?"  
  
Cepheus' eyes moved to the grounds. Harry followed his gaze. Draco and Blaise were heading toward the lake.  
  
"They know the Forest is forbidden. They won't think to look for you here." Cepheus said. Harry looked back at him.  
  
"If it's forbidden, then why are we here? Won't we get in trouble?"  
  
"Only if we're caught. What model broom did you get?"  
  
Harry almost answered, but caught himself. "How —?"  
  
"I overheard Professor Snape bragging to McGonagall." Cepheus smiled a little.  
  
"Nimbus Two Thousand. I was just opening it, but . . ." he trailed off.  
  
"I already know." Cepheus said.  
  
"Know what?" Harry said indifferently.  
  
"What your family did to you."  
  
Harry sat down abruptly. Another person who knew.  
  
"How many people know?" he said, a little shakily.  
  
"I do. I'm guessing Blaise and Draco know. That's it."  
  
Harry drew in a long breath.  
  
"Word got around about the scars on your arms. I watched your reactions to certain things for a day. After that I knew. The signs are easy to read if you look for them."  
  
"Do you think anyone else will figure it out?"  
  
"That depends. Don't drop any hints. If you don't want anyone to know, don't keep running away. They'll get suspicious. They'll look for signs. And they'll find them." Cepheus said, gazing wistfully into the trees. "The circle of humiliation."  
  
"Are there any signs to look for on you?" Harry asked after a moment. Cepheus looked down sharply.  
  
"If you look hard enough."  
  
A few moments passed.  
  
"Why did you stick up for me when Snape caught me flying?"  
  
Cepheus was quiet for a moment.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Harry stared at him.  
  
"Some things you do . . . because you have a feeling that you should."  
  
"Did you have a feeling that you should stop talking to Blaise?" Harry said a little angrily.  
  
Cepheus was silent.  
  
"She misses you." Harry continued softly. "She hates what they've done to you. She says you hide behind your schoolwork, you don't eat, and you never talk."  
  
Cepheus was silent, and didn't meet Harry's eyes, but he could see that Cepheus' eyes were wet.  
  
"Why don't you talk to her?"  
  
"Because . . . I can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I just can't. It hurts. Inside."  
  
Cepheus sat down too. He looked at Harry.  
  
"I abandoned her three years ago to wallow in self-pity. I left her all alone with her mother and her brother to lock myself in my room and wish I was someone else, anyone else. I could have stayed friends with her. I could have played with her and forgotten that I was an experiment of the Death Eaters, because she was too! But what did I choose? To waste away in my own mind. I chose wrong."  
  
Silence.  
  
"But you can still make it up to her."  
  
Cepheus narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Like she would want to be friends with me."  
  
"Didn't you see her face? When you ran out? She was heartbroken; she does still want to be your friend. Ask her yourself."  
  
His eyes widened.  
  
"Give it a shot." Harry encouraged. Cepheus clutched his robes for a moment as he thought. Harry waited for an answer.  
  
/Harry? Where are you?/  
  
Harry's hands shot to his head. He screwed up his face, forcing Blaise's thoughts away as she'd done to him earlier.  
  
"Is that Blaise?" Cepheus asked softly.  
  
"Yeah . . ."  
  
"Tell her we're in the Forest."  
  
Harry looked up. The other boy's face was set.  
  
/Blaise, we're in the Forest/.  
  
/We?/  
  
/Cepheus Major and I/.  
  
/I'm coming, hang on/.  
  
And so they waited.  
  
When Blaise and Draco and, surprisingly, Hermione finally reached them, Cepheus' resolution had all but ran out. Harry nearly had to hold him in place to keep him from bolting. But when Cepheus said he was willing to be friends again, Blaise burst into tears and hugged the life out of him. Harry, Hermione, and Draco ended up slowly creeping away to give the two old friends some space.  
  
Of course, that left Draco giving Harry some slightly strange looks. Hermione was just confused as to why she had to run and find him.  
  
With a regretful sigh and a glance back to where Cepheus and Blaise were talking (Blaise was running over their conversation in her head, as though to savor it), he promised to tell them everything when they got back inside.  
  
A/N: Sorry, I ran out of stuff and had to end it there. Best I can do. I'll give you some Christmas meat as a consolation.  
  
I've been watching Spiderman. It's a good movie.  
  
Okay, more good stuff next chapter, like Halloween and all. Sorry for the delay; this was eight pages and I was out of steam. So, next chapter: Halloween! For real this time!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Lady-fiorey: Thanks.  
  
Gryphnwng: ::Blushes:: Shouldn't've asked. Sorry. Glad you like it!  
  
Erin: Don't worry, Harry won't die . . . yet. I still think JK is going to kill him in the cannon books. You'll see what Harry chooses . . . it's all up to him. Or rather, the mood I'm in. I'll continue, I promise. I love writing Slytherin Harry.  
  
Xirleb70: Oh, shut up. Thanks for making me hide my face! Well, if you're hungry, here's your dinner right here. (This fic, you dork)  
  
Destruxion: Good point. I almost forgot to put that part in.  
  
Er, comma mark: What? Ops? Turgid Tome? What in the world are you talking about? Could you clarify for me?  
  
Wink At J00: NO! Most mature! Geez! Yeah, Harry's just one of those lovable, huggable teddy bears . . . am I goin too far here? EXACTLY! I share your views on Draco's upbringing! I feel very sorry for him. Harry and Sev father and son moments are coming to a theater near you soon! I'm halfway through writing that part and I haven't even started the next chapter. Sheesh. ::blushes:: I'm glad you like my Blaise-female thingy the best! I'm a very happy person now although I am deprived of sleep. Oh, you don't have to go! I like long reviews! (hint, hint) No, I'm kidding. Or am I?  
  
Dragon Queen: Whether Harry is going to be friends with Ron has yet to be decided. I mean, he's friends with Draco and 'Mione, he needs some enemies, right? I miss ole Pafoo.  
  
Sushinase: Are ya . . . speechless? HAHAHA! Oh quit. You'll make me hide my face (shoots glare at Xirleb70).  
  
boomerang-chan: Be glad I wrote it all for you guys. Be happy already! Eat some Jell-O! Yes, Snape is using shampoo. I was wondering who would comment on that! Shampoo as a pen name, wow. Why didn't I think of that? Shampoo Snape, daughter of the evil scary Potions Master.  
  
musiclover86: I know! Harry should've been a Slytherin! Geez!  
  
MarsMoonStar: Thank you.  
  
Desert Fox: Well, yeah, exasperated is the word, but I was looking for a describer, and "ly" word. Harry's so sad about Sirius dying because Sirius is his godfather and the closest thing to a father that he has. Remus may be more important to you, but Harry Sirius was the person he loved the most.  
  
SEP: Thanks, I needed cheering up! Yeah, I had to reinforce the fact that Hermione is a book nut and more Ravenclaw than Slytherin.  
  
Them Girl: Yeah, I have this whole big plan for Draco that'll come way later. It's a bit of a challenge with four people though — in the books it's only three. That's another reason why Ron won't be friends with Harry.  
  
Chochang913: Yes, but my holy cows are outside doing backflips right now. They're unavailable for comment. Ah, I don't like gym anyway. I have to take typing too . . . I'm going into my freshman year. Oh, I could blame you if I really wanted too . . . but I don't have the energy. Really? You think Harry and Draco being friends makes sense? I thought it was an odd decision on my part. 6 hours? Holy crap! I read it from just past 8 AM on the 21st to about 11 PM, that's a whole lot more than 6 hours! Geez! Thanks. I won't blow up at you, I promise.  
  
Adenara Yatman: I will, don't worry.  
  
Jess: Yeah, I like bad Harry too! Yes, Ron is a bumhead. I don't really like him. I think, based on the way Ron acts in the story, that if this situation arose, Ron would act very similarly to what I wrote. I know! There probably are more Slytherin girls, but JK never mentioned them, so Blaise is a girl. Hah.  
  
Kitty: I wish I could help you! Keep breathing! If you die on me I'll kill you.  
  
Jake: I know, I know! I just spotted that; I'm going to be fixing it ASAP. Thanks!  
  
Desert Fox: No, Harry and Blaise are NOT going to snog! Do you want them to or something? Is that why you keep bugging me about it? Mione his near the common room and waited till someone said the password or something, I don't know. No, Ron won't kick Harry's butt. That's the point of naming the dog Fluffy: it shows that Hagrid thinks that vicious monsters are really harmless puppies. 


	13. Halloween

The second week of term was the beginning of Quidditch practice for Harry. Four o'clock every morning Harry had to rise and get ready to go down to the Pitch. He always allowed himself an hour to get rid of sleepiness, take a shower, and trudge down with his Nimbus Two Thousand. The other players on the team were more than a little reluctant to have him play; however, once they scrimmaged and Harry caught the snitch in no more than five minutes, they changed their tune.  
  
It was amazing to Harry how the time flew when good company surrounded him. Cepheus had been adopted into their little group, and he added a sense of contentment that hadn't been there before. The boy ate at almost every meal now. He spoke with Blaise, Harry, Draco, and Hermione but not much to anybody else. Hermione delighted in talking with him; only the Gryffindor girl topped Cepheus' devotion to his studies.  
  
Halloween was nearly upon them. Blaise kept trying to tell Harry that there would be vampires and skeletons and trolls roaming the school that day, and perhaps a murderer with an ax to knock on the dormitory door at night, but Hermione had ruled that train of thought out with plenty of supporting facts from Hogwarts, A History. Blaise pouted for a while, saying she was going to knock on Harry's dorm door and see if he believed her during the night, but now Hermione had ruined it for her. Harry had been the one to fix her with a glare that time, and she'd immediately struck up a conversation with her plate.  
  
In Charms on Halloween, Professor Flitwick had announced that he felt it was time to have them start making things fly. Harry was delighted; he had wanted to do that since they saw Flitwick levitate his own chair while the tiny professor was still on it. Then again, Draco reminded him, he knew how to do self-levitation. Not consciously, however.  
  
Harry and Blaise tried to levitate their feather for about five minutes before Draco took pity and left Cepheus alone for a moment to correct them.  
  
"You're saying the incantation wrong, you dolts. It's Win-/gar/-dium Levi- /o/-sa, not Wingardium Levio-/sa/!"  
  
"Oops." Blaise said cheerfully. Before she could do it correctly, Harry tried it.  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
Their feather rose into the air little by little. Harry moved his wand up a little and it floated up more. Harry grinned before bringing it back down and letting Blaise try. Draco had to correct her one more time and show her how to do it before she got it right.  
  
The day dragged by and finally the four of them were walking down to the Great Hall, hoping to run into Hermione. They didn't see her until they were seated, though; she hurried in and sat down next to Harry as quickly as she could, hugging her books to her chest, eyes a little red.  
  
"Mione?" Blaise asked.  
  
"Oh, I hate Ron Weasley!" She burst out. Her eyes were wet with tears and she looked like she was trying not to cry.  
  
"What did he do?" Draco said, a little savagely. Harry shot him a slightly surprised look.  
  
"You — you wouldn't believe what he said — I was the first one to levitate my feather in Charms and he was working with me, and he got mad — I was walking here and I heard him telling Seamus and Dean that I was a nightmare and I only was friends with you guys because I'm desperate to feel wanted — I hate him! Just because I don't base my thoughts on stupid House rivalry! Just because I can levitate a feather and he can't! Oh, I hate him!"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Before he could say something to Hermione she had stood up, tears running down her face.  
  
"Oh, I can't eat now, I'm going to the bathroom, I'll back in a while." And she nearly ran out of the Great Hall.  
  
"I am going to /kill/ Ron Weasley!" Blaise spat just as the food appeared on their plates.  
  
"I'll beat you to it." Harry said and half-rose to go to the Gryffindor table. He sat back down, however, when the door flew open and Professor Quirrell, the Defense teacher who wore a strange turban, came sprinting into the Hall, terror written on his face. Everyone stared at him as he reached Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll — in the dungeons — though you ought to know — "  
  
Everyone continued staring as he sank to the floor in a dead faint.  
  
Then all hell broke loose.  
  
It took several violently purple firecrackers from Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.  
  
"Prefects will lead their Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" he rumbled.  
  
As the Slytherin prefects started leading the House out of the Great Hall, Harry turned to his friends.  
  
"A troll?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, a troll!" Blaise said, looking slightly panicked.  
  
"How did it get in?" Draco wondered.  
  
"Peeves probably let it in for a Halloween joke." Cepheus suggested. Peeves was the resident poltergeist; you did not want to cross him if you were nearly late for class.  
  
They passed groups of people heading different directions on their way downstairs. In the middle of a group of confused Hufflepuffs, Blaise grabbed Harry's arm.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
Harry stared at her for an instant before comprehending what she said.  
  
"She doesn't know!" Blaise squealed.  
  
"Come on!" Harry grabbed Cepheus and Draco and they merged with the Hufflepuffs.  
  
"If we're caught we're dead!" Draco said angrily.  
  
"We won't!" said Harry.  
  
Cepheus grabbed the three of them and pulled them away from the Hufflepuffs, down a deserted side corridor.  
  
"She's in the bathroom, right?" Cepheus whispered as he led them to it. They had just turned the corridor when they heard quick footsteps behind them.  
  
"It's a prefect!" Blaise hissed and the four of them hid themselves behind a stone griffin.  
  
Peering around it, Harry saw not a prefect, but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.  
  
"What's he doing? Why isn't he in the dungeons with the other teachers?" Blaise asked as they piled out.  
  
"No idea." Harry replied, just as lost as her. They crept as quietly as they could along the next corridor after Snape.  
  
"He's heading for the third floor!" Cepheus said.  
  
"Do you smell something?"  
  
Harry sniffed. A foul stench met his nostrils, something like a mix of unwashed socks and the kind of public toilet no one cleans. He could hear Blaise moaning and holding her nose behind him.  
  
"Hide!" Draco muttered and they tried to mold against the wall. Something very large and smelly was moving toward them from behind. A patch of moonlight fell across it as it passed them; Blaise gasped audibly.  
  
It was the troll. Twelve feet high, skin a dull granite gray, great lumpy body like a boulder, tiny bald head perched on top like a coconut, it was a horrible sight. Its short legs were as thick as tree trunks, with flat, horny feet. The foul stench was coming from the troll. It was holding a huge wooden club that dragged on the floor because of its long arms.  
  
The troll stopped next to the doorway and peered inside, waggling its long ears. It appeared to make up its mind, and slouched slowly into the room.  
  
"No!" Cepheus gasped and lunged after it.  
  
"That's the girls' bathroom!" Blaise moaned.  
  
Harry took off after Cepheus, Blaise and Draco at his heels. Just as Cepheus disappeared into the room, a high, petrified squeal emitted from it — Hermione had seen the troll.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry gasped as he emerged into the girls' lavatory. The Gryffindor girl was shrinking against the opposite wall, in tears as she gazed up at the troll. The troll was advancing on her, knocking sinks off the walls as it went.  
  
"Help me!" came Cepheus' voice, and Harry looked to the left; Cepheus was throwing splintered boards at the troll — it had apparently bashed in a few stalls — to try and get its attention away from Hermione. As Draco and Blaise nearly ran into him, he dashed over to the wall near Hermione and seized a tap. He threw it against the wall. The spectacular crashing noise froze the troll. It lumbered around, a few feet away from Hermione, to see what had made the commotion. Its mean little eyes spotted Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club up high.  
  
"Oy, pea-brain!" Draco yelled from the other side of the chamber as he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning toward Draco instead, giving Harry time to run around it.  
  
"Come on, run, /run/, Hermione!" Harry yelled at the girl, trying to pull her toward the door; Hermione however was flat against the wall, mouth open in terror.  
  
The shouting from Draco and Blaise seemed to be driving the troll crazy. It roared and started toward Draco, who was nearest and had no way to escape.  
  
Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running leap and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't seem to feel Harry hanging behind him, but even a troll will noticed if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose; Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he jumped — it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.  
  
Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry hanging on for dear life; any second now the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.  
  
Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright. Blaise pulled out her wand, aimed it at the troll, and shouted the first spell that came to mind —  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
The club suddenly flew out of the troll's hand; it rose high, high, turned over slowly — and dropped, with a sickening crack onto the owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot before tumbling over, head turned to the side, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.  
  
Harry got to his feet shakily, dusting himself off, and thanked whatever was listening that his wand had not been broken. He pulled it out of the troll's nose — it was covered in a lumpy, gray, glue-like substance. He wiped it on the troll's trousers, muttering "Troll bogies."  
  
"Did you kill it Blaise?" Draco spoke up into the silence.  
  
"No, I think it's knocked out," Harry answered.  
  
A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the five look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they'd been making; but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the loud crashes and troll roars. A moment later, McGonagall burst into the room, followed by Snape and Quirrell. Quirrell took one look at the troll and sank onto a toilet, clutching his heart.  
  
Snape bent over the troll. McGonagall was watching Harry, lips pursed. He looked back, expression blank.  
  
"What one earth were you four thinking?" she said, fury evident in her voice. Harry jumped a little. There were five of them, not four.  
  
"You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"  
  
Snape straightened up and gave them each searching looks.  
  
"Please, Professor, they were looking for me."  
  
Hermione stepped out from behind them.  
  
"Miss Granger!"  
  
"Someone said something that offended me and I came here to sort myself out — they knew where I was, so I guess they came and found me to warn me about the troll, but the troll was already here. Please, Professor, what could they have done? Left the troll to — to kill me?" she finished in a very small voice.  
  
McGonagall softened ever so slightly at the sight of her troubled favorite student.  
  
"Be that as it may, you all were very foolish. Since you did not intend to fight the troll, no points will be taken. Go back to Gryffindor Tower — the feast is being resumed. You four, however," she turned to the Slytherins as Hermione left.  
  
"Now really, Minerva," Snape cut in, his velvety voice overriding any point deductions McGonagall could make. "These four children have just knocked out a fully grown mountain troll, and as Miss Granger said, they did not intend to. If anything, they should be awarded points."  
  
McGonagall was silent for a moment. Then, lips white, she spoke.  
  
"Five points to Slytherin."  
  
Before another word was said, she swept out. Snape paused to give the four of them piercing looks. His eyes landed on Harry.  
  
"Each." He added before he, too, left.  
  
"Yes!" Draco hissed. "Twenty points!"  
  
"I — I guess the f-feast is being f-f-finished in your d-dormitory t-t-too. Y-you'd better g-go." Quirrell stuttered from his toilet seat, eyes fixed on the troll. Harry, Blaise, Draco, and Cepheus hurried out into the corridor.  
  
They did not speak until they were near the Slytherin common room.  
  
"I can't believe that Ron Weasley! The nerve of him to say that to Hermione!" Blaise fumed.  
  
"Twenty points, whoo-hoo!" Draco said, smirking. Harry grinned.  
  
"Unicorn blood," Cepheus spoke the password and they entered to find half the common room staring at them.  
  
"And where've you been?" asked a Slytherin prefect.  
  
"Oh, off knocking out mountain trolls, you know, the usual. I'm rather tired, goodnight!" Blaise said casually and headed up the stairs to her dorm.  
  
"I'm still hungry," Draco said and grabbed a plate. Harry and Cepheus joined him. It wasn't until they were on their second helpings that everyone's eyes had left them.  
  
The three boys shared looks.  
  
And burst into laughter, attracting the attention of the common room once again.  
  
A/N: Only five pages, I know, but this is as good as it gets. All of Halloween. Happy? Sorry, guys, Ron is not gonna be friends with the group in this fic. Sorry to disappoint you. Next Chapter: The Quidditch Match! 


	14. The Quidditch Match

As November swept over them, the weather turned very cold. The grounds were always covered in a thick layer of frost, and if you dared put a finger in the lake, your whole hand would be numb for hours.  
  
The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry was to play in his first match. Against Gryffindor. If Slytherin won, they would move up to second place in the house championship.  
  
No one but the Slytherin team had seen Harry play. Flint had decided to use Harry as a sort of secret weapon, to surprise not only the Gryffindors but the rest of the school as well. Not a word had been leaked to anybody. Except, of course, Harry's friends, whom he had told once he'd gotten on the team.  
  
As the match drew nearer and Harry stopped eating in favor of running through the rules of Quidditch, Hermione decided he needed something to read, so she lent him /Quidditch Through The Ages/, which was a very good book. It kept Harry's mind on the match but distracted him somewhat. He could be seen reading it at all times.  
  
The day before the match, when the five of them were out on the grounds, Hermione conjured up a bright blue fire that could be carried in a jam jar. Unfortunately, just as they started getting warm, Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that he was limping. Under the cover of the others, Hermione ducked down and scooped the flames up, putting them in her pocket.  
  
Snape passed by them after scrutinizing their faces for a moment. They all breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Why is he limping?" Hermione whispered.  
  
"No idea."  
  
That evening, while the three other Slytherins were making Harry concentrate on his homework, someone burst into the common room. It was Hermione. Harry noticed most of the Slytherins giving Hermione malicious glares at once. He stood up immediately and hurried over to her.  
  
"What is it, Mione?" he said quietly.  
  
"Oh, I just saw the most —" she suddenly seemed to notice the looks she was getting and stopped. "Maybe I should tell you outside."  
  
Once outside the common room, Hermione began rambling.  
  
"I was looking for Professor Quirrell, I wanted to know if I'd done my homework correctly, because we have to write that essay, you know, I've already written it all of course — "  
  
"Mione!" Harry cut in.  
  
"Oh, right! I went to the staff room to look for him and knocked twice but no one answered so I opened the door a little to — well, I don't know why, I just did! And Filch and Snape were there and Snape was holding his robes above his knees and one of his legs was all bloody, and mangled, and it looked awful, and he was talking about that three-headed dog! So I guess the dog tore up his leg! I tried to shut the door quietly but he saw me and yelled at me! I tried to say I was only looking for Quirrell but he wouldn't listen! So I ran right here to tell you!" Hermione was nearly in tears by the time she finished. Harry put a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her.  
  
"Hey, Mione, it's okay, calm down. You'd better go back to Gryffindor Tower before someone catches you wandering the halls, okay? Thanks for telling me. Go on, go on!"  
  
Hermione gave him a watery smile before turning and walking briskly out of sight.  
  
Harry whirled around and rushed back into the common room. He darted over to Blaise, Draco, and Cepheus and sat himself down, telling them in a low whisper what Hermione had seen.  
  
"He tried to get past that dog! But why?" Blaise said immediately.  
  
"We saw him going toward the third floor! Remember? On Halloween!" Cepheus said in a hushed voice.  
  
"He must have tried to get what the dog was guarding." Draco piped up thoughtfully. "Hermione said it was standing on a trapdoor. Maybe . . . maybe he let the troll in, as a diversion!"  
  
"But what's the dog guarding?" Cepheus' question put all speaking on hold.  
  
Harry went to bed that night with his head buzzing. What did Snape want? Why did he want it? And on top of it all, he had a Quidditch Match the very next day.  
  
The next morning dawned bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious small of fried sausages and the cheery chatter of everyone looking forward to a great game.  
  
Harry knew none of this. He was sitting in the Slytherin locker rooms, elbows on knees and head in hands. He was shaking a little.  
  
"How am I going to do this?" he hissed to Sadie, who was curled up in his locker.  
  
"You will do well, Harry." She replied confidently.  
  
Harry fell silent, lost in thoughts of falling off his broom and ruining the match.  
  
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be in the stands around the Quidditch Pitch. Many students had binoculars. Blaise, Draco, and Cepheus were seated at the Slytherin end, but Hermione felt obligated to cheer for her own House, though she promised that she really wanted Harry to catch the snitch.  
  
The Slytherin stands were buzzing with one question: Who was their Seeker?  
  
The Slytherin Quidditch Team was assembled in the locker rooms, getting ready. Harry had long since been dressed in his green robes; he was standing, clutching his broom. His eyes were a little glazed over.  
  
Finally Flint stood. The room grew quiet.  
  
"Listen up, team. No one knows that Potter is the Seeker, so we'll count on that for surprising the Gryffindors. Potter, I want you to pull a few dives, pretend like you've seen the snitch a couple times. They'll be distracted, we can score. Got it? The Gryffindor Seeker is some fifth year, I don't know his name, but he's not very good, so you'll be open for catching the snitch. Derrick, Bole, hit the Bludgers toward the Chasers, that Spinnet is pretty good. Pucey, Warrington, do whatever I say, don't question it, and don't be soft about fouling them. Bletchley," Flint stepped forward. A lanky boy who Harry knew as the Slytherin Keeper, met his gaze steadily. "If you let one goal in you're dead meat. Let's go."  
  
Flint led the team. Next came Pucey and Warrington. Then Derrick and Bole. Then Bletchley. Finally, Harry stepped into the sunshine.  
  
The stands seemed to gasp as one. Potter, the Seeker?  
  
Harry came to a stop beside the rest of the team. He shaded his eyes, searching in the stands for his friends . . . there they were, waving madly. He waved back.  
  
Madam Hooch was refereeing. She paused to ask Harry if he was supposed to be playing.  
  
"We have Dumbledore's permission." Said Flint. Hooch gave him an angry look before stopping in the middle of the two teams, broom in hand.  
  
"I want a nice clean game, all of you," she ordered with a look at Flint, who merely sneered. "Mount your brooms please."  
  
This is it, Harry thought as he swung his leg over his Nimbus Two Thousand. He looked over the Quidditch team. They were all staring at him. He grinned at them.  
  
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.  
  
Harry kicked off hard, rising high into the air, veering away from the Chasers.  
  
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what a Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too — "  
  
"JORDAN!"  
  
"Sorry Professor."  
  
Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor, was commentating the match, watched closely by McGonagall.  
  
"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Wood's, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint has taken the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint's flying like an eagle up there — he's going to sc- no, stopped by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field — OUCH! That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger —"  
  
Harry tuned out the talking, searching the field for the snitch. He glanced at the Gryffindor side; their Seeker was watching him closely. Harry turned abruptly. He didn't any more pressure.  
  
Harry hardly noticed when Gryffindor scored. He registered the fact that Bletchley would be in enormous trouble from Flint before swerving around a Beater and continuing his search.  
  
Harry suddenly dived. The stands and the players seemed to hold still. Harry was streaking down at high speed — but he pulled away a few feet from a Beater. He'd thought he saw the snitch, but it was only a reflection from a wristwatch. Flint seized the Quaffle and scored.  
  
"Flint scored when Potter was diving, that brings it up to ten-ten, very strange, really, Potter s only a first year, but since Terence Higgs switched to Durmstrang, I guess they're in need of a Seeker — "  
  
"Jordan! Focus on the game!"  
  
The game resumed, everyone keeping one eye on Harry. Harry did his best to ignore the feeling of everyone watching as he searched harder for a glint of gold that would be the snitch.  
  
"Slytherin in possession," Jordan's voice reached his ears. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment, was that the snitch?"  
  
Harry turned his broom so fast he almost flew off it. Pucey had dropped the Quaffle, too intent on the flash of gold that passed his head.  
  
Harry dived downward after the flash of gold. Suddenly someone was right beside him — The Gryffindor Seeker had seen it too. Neck and neck they hurtled after the snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were doing as they hung in midair to watch. Harry was faster than the other Seeker — he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, just ahead — he put on an extra burst of speed —  
  
WHAM!  
  
Harry veered off course, broom spinning, holding on for dear life.  
  
"Foul!" the Slytherins screamed. The Gryffindors turned a blind eye.  
  
The other Seeker, knowing that Harry would catch the snitch first, had rammed into Harry, sending him flying. A penalty was awarded to Gryffindor. Flint took it.  
  
"How dare he! I can't believe that!" Hermione was screaming indignantly from the stands. Nearby Gryffindors were turning to stare at her.  
  
"At least he didn't get the snitch! We'd have lost!" Ron Weasley said. Hermione glared at him.  
  
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" she yelled before turning and making her way down.  
  
Blaise, Cepheus, and Draco were also yelling.  
  
"Dirty, rotten, lousy, cheating — " Blaise fumed.  
  
"Poor sportsmen!" Cepheus yelled.  
  
"Imbeciles!" Draco added.  
  
"I agree," came a familiar voice.  
  
"Hermione! Glad you've joined us!" Blaise said, making room for her.  
  
Up in the air, Harry was keeping his eyes peeled for the snitch, trying not to glare at the Gryffindor Seeker.  
  
It was as he dodged a Bludger that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a second he thought he was going to fall off. He gripped the broom as tightly as he could with his hands and legs. He'd never felt anything like that.  
  
It happened again. It was though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the game — he had half a mind to ask Flint for a time out — and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.  
  
Jordan was still commentating.  
  
"Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet, passes Bell, hit hard in the face by a Bludger — hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — oh, no . . ."  
  
The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed Harry's broom acting strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.  
  
"What's Harry doing?" Blaise hissed, wringing her hands as she watched Harry.  
  
Suddenly people were pointing at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started rolling over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry had swung off it, holding on with only one hand.  
  
"Oh no!" Hermione whispered.  
  
"Do you think something happened when Smith blocked him?" Draco said quietly.  
  
"No, that takes powerful Dark Magic." Hermione said. "It takes a very powerful wizard."  
  
Suddenly Cepheus grabbed Blaise's binoculars. Instead of looking at Harry, though, he looked at the stands.  
  
"What are you doing?" Blaise moaned, face white.  
  
"I knew it!" Cepheus hissed triumphantly. He shoved the binoculars at Blaise. "Look at Snape!"  
  
Sure enough, Snape was in the teacher's box, but that wasn't the only thing. He was muttering nonstop under his breath, eyes fixed on Harry.  
  
"He's jinxing the broom!" Hermione gasped when she took the binoculars.  
  
"What do we?" Draco asked once he'd seen.  
  
"Leave it to me,"  
  
Before anyone could protest, Hermione was gone. Draco, still holding the binoculars, fixed them on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard it looked almost impossible to hang on to. The whole crowd was watching, terrified, as the Beaters from the Gryffindor team tried to catch him. But every time they drew near, Harry's broom jumped up higher. They fell below, circling, obviously planning on catching Harry if he fell. Marcus Flint, apparently oblivious to his Seeker's danger, seized the Quaffle and scored five times.  
  
"Come on Hermione!" Draco muttered.  
  
Hermione had fought her way across the stand where Snape stood and was now racing along the row behind him, not even stopping to say sorry when she knocked Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered an incantation. Bright blue flames shot out of her wand and lighted on Snape's cloak.  
  
It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize he was on fire, but as he stamped it out, Hermione was halfway across the stands.  
  
Up in the air, Harry's broom stilled. The boy immediately swung up onto it, balancing himself. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Harry was speeding to the ground when the crowd saw him clap a hand to his mouth as though he was going to retch — he hit the field on two legs but fell onto his knees — coughed — and something gold fell onto his hand.  
  
"I've got the snitch!" he yelled, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.  
  
"He didn't catch it, he swallowed it!" Wood, the Gryffindor Captain, was still shouting twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn't broken any rules. Jordan, as well as everyone else, seemed torn between resenting Harry for being a Slytherin and admiring him for staying on his broom.  
  
Harry knew none of this. He was in the gamekeeper's hut, being made a cup of hot chocolate. Hermione was friends with Hagrid, and she'd taken Harry and the rest of the group to his hut immediately.  
  
"It was Snape," Draco was explaining. Hagrid had been a little reluctant about letting a Malfoy in, but when Hermione had said he was all right, Hagrid had opened his door. "We saw him with the binoculars. He was cursing your broomstick, Harry, muttering under his breath and not blinking!"  
  
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid, making Draco jump and look at him. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"  
  
Harry shared a look with Blaise. Should they tell him? They hardly even knew him!  
  
But it was Hermione who decided that for them.  
  
"He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween, Hagrid! It bit him! We think he's trying to steal whatever it's guarding!"  
  
Hagrid dropped the cup.  
  
"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.  
  
"FLUFFY?" Five voices said incredulously.  
  
"Yeah, he's mine, I bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year — I lent him to Dumbledore then to guard the — "  
  
Harry held his breath; but Hagrid seemed to realize what he as saying.  
  
"Erm, forget I said that." He said uncomfortably, picking up the shards of cup. "That's top secret."  
  
"But Snape's trying to STEAL it!" Cepheus protested.  
  
"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."  
  
"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid!"  
  
"I'm telling yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why yer broom acted so oddly, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen to me, all of yeh — yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what its guardin'! That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel — "  
  
"Aha!" Draco cut in. "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"  
  
Hagrid looked furious with himself.  
  
A/N: I had to have Hagrid in here, sorry. Did you like it? I didn't, but oh well. See, my chapters are all long now! Next chapter: Christmas! Wow!  
  
Happy? Three chapters to make up for the time I spent writing them. More soon! 


	15. The Mirror of Erised

Christmas was coming! Blaise couldn't seem to hold still anymore; whether it was during class, studying, or eating, she was always bouncing up and down and smiling. While Harry, Cepheus, and Hermione thought this was rather funny, Draco labeled it as "childish" and "stupid". They had yet to find out why he was in such a bad mood.  
  
One morning in mid-December Hogwarts awoke (or rather, Blaise did) to find itself covered in feet of snow. The hyperactive girl had come running into the boys' dorm, squealing and yelling. Draco had shoved his pillow over his head, Cepheus had grinned sleepily and Harry had looked out the window. Crabbe and Goyle, who had been wandering around by themselves since Draco ditched them, had slept through it. The only other occupant of the room, Caelum Nott, had shot a glare at them all before turning over and falling back asleep.  
  
No one could wait for the holidays to start; Blaise was even rubbing off on Harry. His friend had even managed to persuade him out of his dark corner. After all, the dungeons were always freezing; the nearer to the fire you got, the warmer. The worst place to be, however, was not the Slytherin common room, but Snape's classroom. Harry and Draco, who had adopted Cepheus into their work-group with Snape's permission, kept as close to the fire underneath their cauldrons as possible. Cepheus, whom the cold seemed to have no effect on, was the only student in the class who had no problem venturing out to get ingredients.  
  
A week before term ended, they found out why Draco was so sullen. Professor Snape came into the common room and passed around a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Harry, not keen on returning to the streets (he didn't even /think/ about the Dursleys), had signed up immediately. To his delight, Blaise and Cepheus were also staying (neither wanted to return to their families). Draco, though, explained angrily that his mother wanted him home. The Gryffindors had already signed the list, and Hermione's name wasn't on there either.  
  
They met up with the Gryffindor girl every day in the library, to scour the books for any sign of Nicolas Flamel. How else would they find out what Snape was trying to steal? A ridiculous author's name or a silly book title would distract one of them every once in a while, and they would lapse into giggles, breaking the cold silence of the library. Madam Pince, the hawk- like librarian, always kicked them out after these sorts of episodes. She even kicked Harry out for looking at the Restricted Section on the last day before term ended.  
  
Once the holidays had started, the common room was empty. Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus had it all to themselves. However, it felt very lonely, not having Draco to say sarcastic things, and not meeting up with Hermione to search the library or talk. They'd promised her they'd keep looking, but they quickly forgot all about Flamel in favor of the fun they were having. They sat right next to the fire and roasted anything they could find - marshmallows, chocolate bars (which melted right off the sticks into the fire), raspberries, you name it.  
  
Cepheus, who had played wizard chess against Draco (who was the unofficial chess leader of Slytherin) and lost every game, started teaching Harry how to play. Harry wasn't much of a strategist, but eventually he got good enough to beat Cepheus and Blaise both. Cepheus deemed him worthy of challenging Draco.  
  
On Christmas Eve, Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus brought down their blankets and pillows and settled down in front of the fire. They talked well into the night. When Harry finally did fall asleep, he was looking forward to the food and fun of the next day, not expecting any presents. However, upon waking up the next morning, he found a small pile of presents at the foot of his makeshift bed.  
  
"Happy Christmas." Cepheus said sleepily as he woke.  
  
"You, too," Harry replied, reaching forward and touching the pile of presents. "Look! I've got presents."  
  
"PRESENTS!!!!!!!"  
  
"Ow!" cried Harry and Cepheus, both covering their ears. Blaise had woken up.  
  
Harry picked up the nearest present and opened the letter.  
  
Dear Harry, it said in Hermione's neat script. I know how much you like /Quidditch Through The Ages/, so here's your own copy. Have a very happy Christmas!  
  
Harry, eyes alight, opened the package. A brand new, gleaming copy of /Quidditch Through The Ages/ fell into his lap. He ran his hand over the cover.  
  
Carefully placing the book on his pillow, he pulled over the next present. It was wrapped in thick brown paper. To Harry, From Hagrid, it said in the gamekeeper's untidy scrawl. The group had been visiting Hagrid more often, and Hagrid had grown rather fond of them. Opening it, Harry found a roughly cut wooden flute. He admired it for a moment, then blew in it. It sounded quite like an owl.  
  
The next present was from Draco to the three of them. It contained a huge box of homemade peanut butter fudge and three boxes chock full of chocolate frogs. Harry, laughing, read Draco's letter out loud to Blaise and Cepheus.  
  
"Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus,  
  
"I told her not to do it! But no! 'We must show your friends hospitality, Draco!' Just know that I tried to make her not do it! It's really quite tasty, but really. Fudge? I feel like a Weasley.  
  
"Have a happy Christmas, Draco."  
  
From Cepheus, Harry received a huge container of The Three Broomsticks' best butterbeer mix (just add water!) and a book on self-defense. They shared a meaningful look.  
  
From Blaise he got a standard wand holster. He was delighted with it, but said he'd put it on later. He wasn't keen on exposing his skin more than necessary.  
  
He was delighted to see a small pile of presents for Sadie. She got a miniature wizard's hat (which she detested), a few boxes of rat and mouse flavor snake treats (which she loved), and a bird perch (which she liked curling up around).  
  
Finally Harry only had two presents left. Even though Blaise and Cepheus had many more presents than he did, they'd gone through theirs a lot faster and had none left. So they watch Harry take the smaller one first.  
  
A thin silver chain fell into his lap when he opened it. He picked it up, and a pendant fell into place.  
  
"Wow!" said Cepheus.  
  
'Wow' fit the pendant fairly well. On one side was a big, burly snake, mouth open, fangs gleaming. It was a poisonous green color, with black eyes and red slits for pupils. On the other side was a dragon, pure white, wings spread wide, teeth bared. Its eyes, too, were black, were red slits. The two creatures were intertwined, and right in the middle of the pendant was a single letter: S.  
  
"Who gave /that/ to you?" Blaise breathed. Harry searched around the paper, but there wasn't any letter.  
  
"No note." He said before tying the chain around his neck. The pendant fell in the middle of his chest.  
  
"You look so beautiful, Harry!" Cepheus exclaimed, putting his hand over his heart and using the kind of voice Pansy Parkinson always spoke in.  
  
Harry batted his eyelashes.  
  
"Do you really think so?"  
  
Blaise collapsed into a fit of giggles.  
  
"One more!" Harry said, voice back to normal. He grabbed the last parcel and opened it.  
  
Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds of fabric. Blaise gasped.  
  
"I've heard of those!" she said in a hushed voice. "If that's what I think it is - they're unbelievably rare!"  
  
"What is it?" Harry said uncertainly, picking it up. It felt strange to touch, like water woven into material.  
  
"Put it on!" said Cepheus. "It's an invisibility cloak!"  
  
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders. Blaise and Cepheus yelled as one.  
  
"It is!" Blaise yelped.  
  
Harry looked down.  
  
He couldn't see his feet.  
  
"Where'd my feet go?" he said, panicked. Blaise collapsed into giggles again.  
  
"You're invisible, Harry. That's why it's called an Invisibility Cloak."  
  
Harry dashed over to the mirror and looked in. His head was suspended in midair. He pulled the hood over himself.  
  
"I feel like a vampire." He said softly. Then, in a very quiet voice: "I veell drink your blood!"  
  
"There's a note!" Blaise said suddenly, no longer giggling. Harry whirled around, taking the cloak off. "Whoa! Didn't see you there, Harry."  
  
"Oh, ha." He said, picking up the note. Written in narrow, loopy writing he'd never seen before were the following words: 'James left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was given to you. Use it well. A Very Happy Christmas to you.'  
  
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note.  
  
"Who sent it to you?" Cepheus asked, admiring the cloak.  
  
"There's . . . there's no name." He answered absently. He felt very strange. Did this cloak really belong to James Potter, his father? Who'd sent it?  
  
"Weird . . ." Blaise muttered.  
  
The three of them transferred their presents to their beds, Harry's mind clouded with thoughts of the cloak.  
  
However, once he'd sat down for Christmas dinner, thoughts of the cloak were driven out of his mind to be replaced with thoughts of food. More food than he had ever seen in his life. A hundred fat roasted turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas (A/N: what are those?); tureens of buttered peas; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. Harry was particularly interested in these. They were nothing like the feeble muggle ones. Harry pulled a cracker with Blaise and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a real admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.  
  
Flaming Christmas puddings had followed the turkey. Cepheus nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing McGonagall on the cheek. To Harry's amazement, the usually stern professor giggled and blushed, her hat lopsided.  
  
When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of luminous, non-explodable balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizards chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Blaise voiced her opinion that they were probably Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.  
  
Harry, Blaise, Cepheus, and the Weasley twins (who joined them of their own accord) spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. At first it was purely non-magical, but after being hit in the face five times, Blaise resorted to magic.  
  
Eventually, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, the Slytherins returned to the fire in their common room, where Harry broke in his new set by losing narrowly to Blaise.  
  
After a short meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, all three of them felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except chat about the day (Cepheus blatantly refused to call it a chat; he thought the word made it sound to girly until Blaise reminded him that she was a girl and she was in on the chat).  
  
It had been Harry's best Christmas by far. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed (they agreed that the common room floor was uncomfortable and so Blaise was sleeping in Caelum Nott's bed, much to her horror) was he free to think about the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.  
  
Blaise and Cepheus, both too full of turkey and sweets and with nothing mysterious lurking the corners of their brains, fell asleep as soon as they hit their beds. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.  
  
James' . . . this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hand, smoother than silk, lighter than air. Use it well, the note had said.  
  
He had to try it, now. He slid out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.  
  
Use it well.  
  
Suddenly Harry felt wide-awake. All of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.  
  
Blaise snored in her sleep. Harry studied her bed. Should he wake her? What about Cepheus? Something held him back - his father's cloak - he felt that this time - the first time - he wanted to use it alone.  
  
He crept out of the dormitory, across the common room, and through the stone wall.  
  
Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. Then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.  
  
The library was pitch black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the shelves of books. The lamp looked like it was floating in midair, and even though Harry could see his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.  
  
The Restricted Section was at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the others, he held up the lamp to read the titles.  
  
They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry knew nothing of. Some had no title at all. One had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.  
  
He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for a book that might seem interesting. A large blood red volume with a silver serpent on the spine caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.  
  
A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence. The book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the scream went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over the lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, hearing footsteps coming down the corridor outside, he stuffed the book back onto the shelf and ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes stared right through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.  
  
He came to a sudden halt in front of a very tall suit of armor. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going in his haste to leave the library. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but that was five floors below.  
  
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library - Restricted Section."  
  
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? They can't be far. We'll catch them."  
  
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him - the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.  
  
He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away.  
  
It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he was standing in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls and there as an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had put it there to keep it out of the way.  
  
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.  
  
His panic fading now that there was no sign of Filch and Snape, Harry moved closer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself and see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.  
  
He had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a woman standing just behind him.  
  
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned very slowly back to the mirror.  
  
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, was a tall, pretty woman. Harry looked over his shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or was she invisible too? Was he in fact in a room with an invisible person and the mirror's trick was that it reflected both of them, invisible or not?  
  
He looked in the mirror again. The woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror.  
  
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time.  
  
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.  
  
"Mum?" he whispered, so softly that even he barely heard it.  
  
She just looked at him, smiling. Harry scrutinized her face; he looked a lot like her.  
  
She smiled at Harry and he looked hungrily back at her, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping he could fall right through and reach her. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him: half joy, half terrible sadness.  
  
How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflection did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his gaze from his mother's eyes, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.  
  
"You could've woken us!" Blaise grumbled.  
  
"You two can come tonight. I want to show you the mirror."  
  
"I'd like to see your family," Cepheus said.  
  
"Yeah! Me too!" Blaise put in. Harry grinned.  
  
"Your families will be interesting."  
  
"No they won't," said Blaise at once. "Mine's just my mum, Brayden, and me."  
  
"Who's Brayden?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"My brother. He's just out of Hogwarts."  
  
Harry nodded. He looked at Cepheus.  
  
"I have a mum, a dad, and two sisters."  
  
Blaise snorted suddenly.  
  
"Yeah; Lyra and Lynx. I remember them."  
  
Cepheus grinned at her. "You mean from the time they tricked you into believing there was a mirror where there wasn't and that you didn't have a reflection?"  
  
"Those were the days," Blaise said a tad dreamily.  
  
* * *  
  
What Harry worried about most was that he might not be able to find the room again. Blaise and Cepheus had joined him under the cloak, and moving became a bit of an issue. The three of them tried retracing his steps from the library for more than an hour.  
  
"I'm cold," Blaise said, shivering. "Can we go back?"  
  
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here."  
  
And Harry spotted the door.  
  
"It's here!"  
  
They pushed the door open. Harry dropped his cloak from his shoulders and sprinted for the mirror.  
  
There she was. His mother, fiery hair draped over her shoulders, green eyes shining, beamed at him.  
  
"See?" Harry whispered, in an awe-inspired voice.  
  
"Um . . . Harry? I can't see anything." Blaise said, sounding worried.  
  
"Look! Look at her . . . that's my mother!"  
  
"Harry we only see the three of us." Cepheus said quietly.  
  
"Here, stand where I am, look in properly."  
  
Harry stepped aside, but with Cepheus in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his mother any more, only his friend. Cepheus, though, was staring open- mouthed at his reflection. Suddenly he jerked up his sleeve.  
  
The Mark shone eerily in the moonlight. Cepheus' face contorted in confusion.  
  
"What? What do you see?" Harry asked.  
  
"Me," said Cepheus in amazement. "But . . . but I don't have the Mark . . . it's just bare skin where it ought to be . . . what . . . what is this mirror?"  
  
"I don't know." Harry muttered. "I don't know."  
  
"Can . . . can I try it?" said a very small voice. Harry looked at Blaise. She was trembling a little and her face was pale. Cepheus moved out of the way and she stepped forward. She froze in shock.  
  
"What?" Cepheus whispered.  
  
"Dad . . ." said Blaise in a choked voice. "Daddy . . ."  
  
Cepheus gasped.  
  
Harry stared.  
  
"Daddy . . . Daddy . . ." Blaise whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "Daddy . . ." she reached a hand out but only touched the mirror's surface.  
  
"You see your mum, I see myself minus the Mark, Blaise sees her dad . . ." Cepheus muttered under his breath. "What does this mirror do?"  
  
"The question is," Harry said, "why do I only see my mum? Why not my dad?"  
  
"I don't know . . ."  
  
A noise in the corridor made them look up.  
  
Harry snatched the invisibility cloak and threw it over his shoulders. He grabbed Cepheus and the two of them tore Blaise away from the mirror. Just as the cloak fell over Blaise, a pair of luminous eyes followed by a scruffy body peered round the door. Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus stood still, thinking the same thought - could Mrs. Norris see through the cloak? After several minutes of tense silence, the cat turned and walked away.  
  
"I bet she's gone for Filch. We have to go," Harry said and they started out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
The snow hadn't melted the next morning.  
  
"Want to play chess, Harry?" Cepheus asked gamely. Harry shook his head, thoughts dwelling on his mother and the mirror.  
  
"Why don't we go and visit Hagrid?" Blaise said.  
  
"No," Harry said, a bit irritated.  
  
"I know what you're are thinking about. Let's not go back to the mirror tonight."  
  
Harry looked up at Cepheus. "Why not?"  
  
"I have a bad feeling about it, that's why."  
  
But Harry only had one thought in his mind: his mother. He was going back to the mirror and Cepheus wasn't going to stop him.  
  
The third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was so focused on his goal that he forgot to walk quietly; it was a miracle no one caught him.  
  
And there was his mother, smiling widely, brushing her dark red hair out of her face. Nothing was stopping him from seeing his mother. Nothing.  
  
Except -  
  
"So - back again, Harry?"  
  
Harry whirled around, mouth dry, wand drawn. There, sitting on one of the dusty desks, was Albus Dumbledore. He must have walked straight past the Headmaster, too eager to see his mother to care.  
  
"I - I didn't -" Harry stuttered, lowering his wand.  
  
"Odd how nearsighted being invisible can make you." To Harry's relief, Dumbledore was smiling. "So, you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."  
  
He had slipped off the desk and was standing next to Harry. Harry furrowed his brow.  
  
"I didn't know it was called that."  
  
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does."  
  
"It shows me my mother." Harry tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He turned and looked at his mother's smiling face.  
  
"It also showed Miss Zabini her father and Mr. Major his reflection without his Mark."  
  
Harry gaped at him.  
  
"I need no cloak to become invisible, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "Can you think what the mirror shows us?"  
  
Harry looked into his mother's eyes.  
  
"I . . . I've heard of how Cepheus sort of wallowed in self-pity after he got the Mark . . . so to see himself without it . . . and Blaise's mother killed her father at one of the 'parties' . . . Voldemort killed my mother . . . Does it show us what we want to see?" Harry concluded, looking to Dumbledore. To his surprise, Dumbledore was beaming at him.  
  
"Very good, Harry, very good. This mirror shows us the deepest, darkest desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your mother, see her beside you. Cepheus Major, who has never wanted the Mark, sees himself without it. And Blaise Zabini, who has always loved her father, sees him alive again. However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or driven mad, not knowing if what they see is real.  
  
"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry. I ask you not to look for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Harry. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and hop off to bed?"  
  
Harry nodded, picking up the cloak.  
  
"Professor? Can . . . can I ask you something?"  
  
"Obviously, as you've just done so." Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing though."  
  
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"  
  
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."  
  
Harry stared at him.  
  
"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore said. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on giving me books."  
  
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, Harry thought as he watched moonlight illuminating the faces of his friends, it was a very personal question.  
  
A/N: OK people this took forever to get out, but hey! It's ten pages. This is good for me. More soon. And you guys if you want to know when each chapter comes out, please leave me your email address in a review so I can send you a link.  
  
Oh by the way one of my friends posted a story recently and isn't getting any reviews; it's a neat story too. Maybe you could give her a hand and read it? Don't tell her I told you too of course. Her log-in name is LyraAndCassiopia. Her story is called Phoenix Song. Please leave her a nice review?  
  
Reviews:  
  
Lord Master Omega: Thanks.  
  
DaBear: Thanks!  
  
Boomerang-chan: Sorry, I felt I had to make up for the wait. Hehe!  
  
Tigerlily: I know, its stupid. Yeah, I like Cepheus; he's a cool guy.  
  
Desert Fox: I hate you. Leave me alone before I blow up at you.  
  
Ryra Skorka: Sorry, I didn't make the formatting that way! It's ff.net's fault! Blame it on them!  
  
Muggle Girl: :: Blushes a lot :: Thanks! I was waiting for SOMEone to comment on the effort I put in to being witty. Yeah, I love those too! You can keep reading and reading and reading and . . . anyway . . . Yeah, Harry seems to suddenly know things a lot. Sorry about that. I'm trying to . . .well, I don't know what I'm trying to do, but it's hard trying to pretend like you haven't read the books and don't know exactly what's going to happen. Bleh. Yeah, Hermione strikes me as that type of person. I love having a Gryffindor hanging out with Slytherins!  
  
DragonQueen: You'll find out along with everybody else. (smiles cryptically)  
  
Tewks: Thank you.  
  
Smileyouidiot: Thanks, you brightened my day.  
  
Adenara Yatman: Good. Be happy.  
  
Katrina: I'm sorry, I have no clue how they even got there. I would fix it if I knew how, but I don't.  
  
MerlinHalliwell: Thanks, I like that particular plot twist too! Adds color to the story.  
  
Ruined Emperor: Love your name. No questions answered! You have to read it yourself! 


	16. Two out of Four

"Geez, don't even bother to wait for me to try it out." Draco grumbled when he and Hermione had returned. Harry sent him a sharp glare, sick of the blonde's complaints. The boy had been whining about not getting a chance to look in the Mirror of Erised ever since he had come back from the holidays. Draco glared back.  
  
"Don't bicker."  
  
"Easy for you to say," Draco snapped at Blaise. "You got to look in the mirror. I didn't even get the chance."  
  
"Shut up, you moron." Harry snarled, patience fried by Draco's self- absorption.  
  
Draco, Blaise, and Cepheus turned to gape at him. Draco's face melted from astonishment to pure rage in less than three seconds.  
  
"How dare you!"  
  
"Easily! You sit there and grumble about how YOU can't do anything, how we never include YOU! You only think about yourself! Grow up Draco!" Harry didn't even pause to think about what he was saying. All the pent up anger and rage he'd been feeling flew through his mouth and hit Draco like a slap in the face. Draco turned bright red.  
  
"Me? I'm self-absorbed? Look at you! 'Oh, I've been on the streets for a year, pity me! Hey, look at me, I'm Harry Potter! Look at me, I've been abused and take every chance I can to show off my scarred arms'!"  
  
There was dead silence in the common rooms. Every Slytherin was staring at the two boys.  
  
Harry's face lost all color. He stared at Draco for a moment before turning red. He stood up and the common room went dark.  
  
"You presume to know about what happened to me! You think I like this? You think I love the attention? You think I wanted my uncle to hit me and punch me and cut me? You think I wanted my aunt screeching at me to do every little chore until my back ached and my muscles seized up? You think I wanted my cousin to beat up on me and show me off to his friends so that they could tell me what a freak I am? You think I wanted every one I thought cared about me telling me I was worthless until I believed it?" It was pitch black now, even though the sun was shining outside, and a strange silver light surrounded Harry. "You think I want everyone to know my name and think I'm some kind of hero? Do you? DO YOU?"  
  
Silence reigned. The pitch black evaporated as Harry realized what he'd just said.  
  
He wheeled around and walked quickly through the portrait hole, leaving a shocked silence behind him. He stumbled through the dungeon corridors, getting himself further and further away from the common room, eyes half shut. Finally he ran smack into a wall and tumbled to the ground. He lay there, sprawled, struggling against the tears. He brought his knees to his chest and hugged them. The tears fell.  
  
Severus watched his son from a shadowed corner. The boy had come tearing down here from the middle of nowhere and ran headlong into a wall. A very Gryffindor thing to do. Severus watched him, quiet as a mouse.  
  
His black hair was covering his face, but from the way he was shaking, Sev was sure the boy was trying not to cry. He wondered for a moment what could have caused such a reaction in the child.  
  
Then, against his will, Severus moved forward.  
  
Harry's eyes were squeezed shut, but tears managed to crawl out anyway. Rasping sobs hacked their way into his throat. He squashed his legs against his chest.  
  
Then there was warmth. A peaceful, warm darkness. A black cloak fluttered around his shoulders and a warm hand rested on his head. Harry slowly looked up, eyes red with tears and face flushed. Professor Snape was kneeling beside him, concern in the darkness of his eyes.  
  
Without thinking Harry flung his arms around his professor. There was a moment of shocked silence, and Harry feared rejection -  
  
. but slender arms circled around him and he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. The arms tightened and he felt Snape's breath on his forehead.  
  
"He-told me-told me I wanted-wanted Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and Dudley d-doing all that st-st-stuff-" Harry sobbed out. A hand smoothed his hair.  
  
"Sh," Professor Snape hushed him, his voice gentle. Harry fell silent, fighting the sobs.  
  
Dumbledore stood guard at the bend of the next corridor. He'd seen Severus and Harry. He knew Severus was going to tell the boy soon.  
  
The sound of thumping footsteps reached Albus' ears. He quickly cast a two- way Silencing charm on Harry and Severus and turned to meet the on-comers.  
  
"Professor!" Blaise Zabini, Harry's very first friend, skidded to a halt. Cepheus Major ran into her before stopping.  
  
Albus bent down to speak to the two first-years.  
  
"Listen closely. Harry is at an important stage of his life right now. I assure you he is perfectly safe. You may not see him until tomorrow. Inform your friends of this." He swallowed the urge to add that they should tell Draco to be a little less arrogant.  
  
Eyes wide, Blaise nodded. Cepheus gave him a slightly suspicious look before turning and walking away. Blaise followed.  
  
Albus turned back to look at Severus and his son before removing the Silencing Charm and leaving them in peace.  
  
Harry felt himself being lifted into his professor's arms and carried a distance.  
  
Severus knew this was the time to tell Harry. The very time when he needed a friend, a father. He lifted the boy up in his arms and carried him to his own chambers, grateful that no one was out of bed at this time.  
  
He set his son down on the worn black couch in front of a fire that was brought to life for the first time in many, many years. The warmth that filled the room in seconds was a relief to Severus, who had long since forced himself to remain in the cold. He slumped down in a second black couch that mirrored the first.  
  
Harry sniffed quietly and opened his puffy eyes. He was in Professor Snape's quarters. He watched the fire for a moment before turning to look at his Potions Professor.  
  
The man was slouched in his seat, pale face slack. With a start, Harry recognized some of the features on Snape's face now that it wasn't twisted in a sneer. The hooked nose wasn't quite so prominent. The thin lips were slightly parted in a human-like gesture. Harry could see that his eyebrows were actually quite nicely arched. His eyes. luminous black eyes, focused on nothing in particular. Professor Snape wasn't quite the greasy bat most people proclaimed him to be.  
  
"Professor?" whispered Harry, afraid to disturb him from this unexpected peacefulness.  
  
"Harry," Snape said softly as his black eyes focused on the boy before him. Harry blinked. Snape said his name as if it were something wonderful. not the same way he usually spat it out. "I have something to tell you."  
  
Harry stared at him for a long moment. "What is it?"  
  
There was silence for a minute or two. Snape seemed to be struggling with words. Finally, he began. "What do you know of your parents?"  
  
Again, Harry blinked. "My mum was Lily Potter. My dad was James Potter."  
  
"That's it?" Snape asked in surprise.  
  
"I know my mum died to save me, and that Voldemort killed my dad."  
  
Snape sighed. "Two out of four, Harry."  
  
"What?" Harry said, confused.  
  
"Your mum's name was Lily, and she died to save you."  
  
The wheels turned in Harry's head. That meant that James Potter wasn't his dad, and Voldemort didn't kill him. His eyes widened.  
  
"Is James Potter alive?"  
  
"No. James Potter was killed when Godric's Hollow was attacked."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
  
"If James Potter isn't my dad, then who is?"  
  
"I am."  
  
Silence reigned for about thirty seconds.  
  
"What do you mean, you are? You can't be my dad! How could this be?"  
  
"Lily Evans was a good friend of James," Snape interrupted the flow of Harry's questions. "But she was a better friend to me. We were both outcasts, misfits. She did her best at school because she had to prove she wasn't just some Mudblood." Harry flinched. "I did my best at everything to prove to my father I wasn't just a scrawny little kid.  
  
"At first, I scared Lily. She in my year, but I was much taller than she was. She thought I was the evil, slimy Slytherin who was destined to be a Death Eater. But when we were in second year, the Potions professor asked me to tutor her. Potions was her worst subject. I agreed, though reluctantly. By the time school was out for the Christmas Holidays, she knew me and I knew her, and we were friends.  
  
"Potter and his friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, had taken a liking to her. She was a Gryffindor, so they were quick to make friends with her. They knew I tutored her. Potter thought he was better than me. Black used me as entertainment. Pettigrew was afraid of me. Lupin sympathized from a distance.  
  
"No matter how much they tried to convince her that I was evil, she stayed my friend.  
  
"But to the rest of the school, we didn't like being paired up like that. So when our friendship evolved into something more, we had to hide it. I would glare and call her a Mudblood, and she would glare back and call me a slimy Slytherin. We had good fun laughing at our stupid insults in private. Then, after taking our History of Magic O.W.L.s in fifth year, Potter and Black went too far. They hung me upside down and nearly choked me with soap. Your mother saw and came running. She almost gave us away, then-demanding for Potter to let me go. Potter had developed quite the crush on her by then. He bargained that he would let me go and never touch me again if she would go out with him. She said no. Potter was furious." Snape shivered, remembering. Harry was on the edge of his seat, fascinated. "He humiliated me worse that day than he ever could have dreamed. It was my worst memory of my school years.  
  
"When Lily and I graduated, we wanted to get married. But Voldemort had offered to take me in. When Voldemort offers something, you do not refuse. I told Lily horrible lies; I told her I didn't love her, I told her she was nothing more than a Mudblood. Her tears broke my heart. My words broke hers.  
  
"Lily married James. They were the perfect couple, dwelling in the perfect house, living the perfect life. I kept away from them as best I could. But one night I couldn't stand it any longer. I went to her window, watched the moonlight pale her blood-red hair. She caught me. I don't need to tell you what happened then, only that she forgave me for all my sins and horrible words.  
  
"When you were born, you looked enough like Lily to mask the features you inherited from me. You have her eyes, her nose, and her chin. You have my cheeks, my hair, and my bone structure. You were a beautiful child. And everyone thought you were James'. Even I thought you were James'.  
  
"On Halloween, when you were only a year old, Voldemort attacked. Potter was killed. Lily was killed. I came too late. The sight of Lily, lying in the corridor, still and limp as a rag doll, has haunted me for ten years. When I saw you, crying for your mother . . . . Even then, I thought you were James' son. But Lily knew. She knew you were mine. She still gave her life for yours. You survived because her love for you was too great to be overcome by any spell."  
  
Snape finished abruptly in a whisper. There were tears in his eyes. He took a shuddering breath and looked at Harry.  
  
"Did my mother give me my name, as well?" Harry asked softly. Snape smiled.  
  
"No. Potter named you after his own father. It is not what Lily would have named you. It is not what I would have named you." He answered. Harry paused before nodding.  
  
"Someday I'll ask you what you would have named me. But not today."  
  
Snape nodded in agreement.  
  
For a moment, father and son stared at each other. Then Harry was in Snape's arms, thinking a new word in cadence with a new feeling in his heart-father.  
  
A/N: Yes, kick me in the buttocks and murder me on the spot. I haven't updated in months. I sorely apologize and promise to get a move on. One warning: things stop being smack on cannon right here. I'm going for the AU dip. Oh, and by the way-any suggestions on Harry's real name?  
  
Reviews:  
  
ennui2: Umm thanks. if you mean Harry's snake, her name is Sadie, but yeah. Thanks.  
  
Heaven's Reaper: That's ok I like your review anyway!  
  
Fizzysoda: Snape has given them no reason to believe he isn't doing it. If McGonagall had been hexing Harry's broom in the canon series and she was doing the odd things, they'd suspect her. Thanks!  
  
Desert Fox: Well you don't read the canon so you don't know what happens. You have to read the canon. And then you go around saying 'Blaise and Harry are going to smooch' and that annoys me because they're eleven and how do you know they're gonna get together anyway! But ok. Yes Dumbledore does know about Snape being Harry's father! Did you read the part with Snape getting shampoo from Dumbledore??? Dumbledore was telling him to tell Harry!! See this is what makes me mad. You don't seem to actually read the story.  
  
Arctic Wolf2: Well, we'll see. I'm trying to post more frequently so I can move on to second year, but . . .  
  
Lightning Rain: Keep reading silly! My first thought was the same as yours but I figured that since I haven't even done that I couldn't very well write it.  
  
Smacks Killer: Thanks!  
  
Arials17: More is coming!  
  
Adenara Yatman: Thank you!  
  
Simple Confusion: Glad you like it.  
  
Casey: No I'm not hospitalized, don't worry. I'm working on it!  
  
Boomerang-chan: Yeah, I want Harry's necklace, too. Ooh, your story idea sounds cool! Just do me a HUGE favor and don't you dare make her a Mary Sue. Ooh I like Misua! Tell her I sympathize with weird crushes. I've had about five. Three are on book characters that don't even exist.  
  
Tati 1: Gosh . . . I didn't think it was that good . . .  
  
Charlie-potter1: Thank ya! I shall.  
  
,(): Thank you.  
  
Bitchkitten: You have such a lovely username. I love Slytherin Harry too- he's not meant to be a goody goody Gryff!  
  
Silver Lady: Yes, yes, I know, you're going to chew me out. I cower before your wrath!!  
  
,(): I'm so sorry. I've been so neglectful. I'll try my best to update more often.  
  
Dracos Girl 8706: I love you! You motivated me.  
  
Once again, I apologize. Expect the new chapter soon, and be sure to send a review to hustle me along. 


	17. The Yearbooks

Harry spent the night in Snape's quarters, curled up on the worn black couch, the fire carving intricate shadows on his face. He woke once in the night as his father pulled an old, slightly scratchy quilt over him.  
  
His father.  
  
It was foreign to him to even think the words, let alone connect them with someone he knew, someone whose face he had looked upon every day for four months.  
  
It was nice.  
  
Dear Merlin, it was nice.  
  
In the morning, his father made him a cup of overly chocolate-tasting cocoa. It was obvious Snape wasn't used to making things, let alone a child's drink. Harry loved it and savored every last drop.  
  
Classes were to restart again that morning. At the end of breakfast, Harry left Snape's quarters after a sudden hug. He hurried down the swarming corridors, face flushed with happiness and eyes bright. He took a seat right up front in Transfiguration. He paid rapt attention to McGonagall's lengthy lecture, volunteering information whenever he could, oblivious to the stunned whisperings of Cepheus, Blaise, and Draco, three seats behind him.  
  
At the end of class, he gathered his things, humming quietly to himself. He walked right past his friends in the doorway without even noticing them, and made his way to Charms undisturbed. Again, he took a seat in front. Professor Flitwick was thrilled when Harry performed the Color-Changing Charm perfectly after only one trial run. Harry beamed as Flitwick praised him, and again, his friends muttered to each other about his strange behavior.  
  
Lunch, he spent alone as well, eating absently and humming, filling his plate full and eating an extra roll. He left early for the class he was most anxious to be in-Potions.  
  
When he got there, his father (his father! It was so strange to even think the words!) was busy writing out the lesson plan. Harry cheerfully took his usual seat and read over the instructions. He fetched his cauldron and sat quietly at his desk until people finished filing in and the bell rang.  
  
Cepheus took the seat beside him and started chopping up the ginger roots as soon as Snape had finished instructing them. He cast a strange look at his friend as Harry, humming happily, dropped a unicorn hair into the boiling water.  
  
"Where were you last night, Harry?" Cepheus finally asked. Harry looked up, green eyes vivid.  
  
"Nowhere you should concern yourself over." He replied simply, returning to his stirring.  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
"I was cooling off."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"The Quidditch Pitch," Harry invented. Cepheus looked darkly at him.  
  
"We checked the Quidditch Pitch. You weren't there."  
  
"Believe me or not. You don't need to worry over where I spent the night."  
  
"But why are you so happy today? You insulted Draco, and he insulted you. You were furious last night, the entire common room talked about it for hours."  
  
"Cepheus," Harry said, turning a kind look upon his fellow Slytherin. "I won't tell you where I was. Leave it at that."  
  
They spent the remainder of the period in silence, Harry focusing his attention on the potion and absently thinking about his father, Cepheus pondering any possible places for Harry to have been.  
  
"Well?" Blaise ambushed Cepheus as soon as Harry had disappeared from earshot. "What did you find out?"  
  
"Nothing. He didn't tell me."  
  
"Unbelievable! We have to find out where he went!"  
  
"Blaise," Cepheus began uneasily. "Maybe we should take Dumbledore's advice and let Harry be. He doesn't want to tell us, so maybe we aren't supposed to know just now."  
  
Blaise glared at him. Cepheus glared back.  
  
"All right," she sighed. "When he wants to tell us, I suppose he will."  
  
* * *  
  
Dinner, Harry also spent alone, eating happily. Afterwards, he went down to the library and asked Madam Pince if the library had any type of school yearbook. After a fierce glare and some suspicious questioning, she lent him the seven yearbooks from his parents' years of school. A bright smile on his face, Harry lugged them over to a random table and started leafing through the first one.  
  
He struck gold about twenty pages in.  
  
A picture of two figures sitting across from each other, busily writing notes, their mouths moving every so often. One was feminine, with blood- red hair that spilled over her shoulders messily. The other was masculine, with black hair and a pale face.  
  
His mother and father.  
  
He savored the picture before turning a few more pages.  
  
There was another picture, this one of Severus and Lily concocting a potion in the dungeons, Lily looking up every now and then and smiling at her dark companion, who looked so much happier than he did these many years later.  
  
Harry came upon a third picture, this one of four boys and a red-haired girl. He looked at each of the boys in turn, remembering the way his father had described them. One, who was mussing his hair up every now then, wore glasses and a grin directed at Lily. This must be James Potter, already besotted with Lily. The next was short and pudgy, with a rat-like face and small, watery blue eyes that were darted around nervously. This must be the one who was always scared . . . Peter Pettigrew. Another, with honey-brown hair streaked in bits of white, had a calm, relaxed smile and warm brown eyes. Remus Lupin, the one who sympathized with Severus. That left Sirius Black-and sure enough, the boy fit his description. A cool smile, eyes like ice chips, smooth black hair that fell elegantly to the bottoms of his ears. Harry turned the page.  
  
In the second yearbook, Harry found more pictures of his mother and father together, brewing potions, studying, reading aloud from Potions books. Harry tried to commit each one to memory.  
  
In the third yearbook, he found more pictures, but these were different. A subtle smile from Lily to Severus in one. A brief touch of Severus' hand to Lily's shoulder as he passed her in another. In one picture of the Great Hall at dinner, he distinguished his parents from the crowds. Lily had eyes only for Severus, and Severus for Lily. He smiled as he saw James Potter trying to get Lily's attention in vain. As Harry watched, the students got up and filed out-and he remembered that these were magical pictures, and the people couldn't stay at dinner forever.  
  
In the fourth yearbook, someone had caught a picture two fourteen year olds kissing in a corner-Harry could make out Lily's dark red hair, and a pale hand on her shoulder. It was his parents. Someone had written on the photograph 'Lily and James-love or lust?' Harry grinned. If only they knew it wasn't James.  
  
In the fifth yearbook, there were more pictures of the Lily and Severus. There was even one marked 'Post-O.W.L.s' that covered the entire grounds and, if you squinted, showed a glimpse of a boy hanging upside down in the air, and a girl with red hair sprinting across the lawns.  
  
He was about to open the sixth notebook when someone sat down at his table. He glanced up and met the brown eyes of his Gryffindor friend.  
  
"Hello, Hermione."  
  
"Hello, Harry," she smiled at him. "Have you started that Charms essay yet?"  
  
"I've got two paragraphs."  
  
She gave him a look before glancing at the yearbook in front of him. "What's that?"  
  
"Yearbook. It's from when my parents were in their sixth year."  
  
"Looking for pictures?" she asked. He nodded. "Have fun. I have to get back to the common room. Lavender Brown wants my help on the Transfigurations homework."  
  
"Alright. You have fun with that, too."  
  
"See you later."  
  
As Harry went back to looking through the last two yearbooks, Hermione returned to the hallway, where Draco was waiting for her.  
  
"Well? What's up with him?"  
  
"Nothing. He's looking through yearbooks for pictures of his parents."  
  
"Bloody hell, Hermione! You're supposed to find out what's up with him!"  
  
"Go in there and find out yourself, Draco. And while you're at it," she fixed him with a glare. "You might as well apologize."  
  
With a heavy sigh, Draco turned on his heel and walked into the library.  
  
A/N: End of chapter. Crappy ending, I know.  
  
Peoples, I've revised chapters one, two, and sixteen. In chapter one I fixed a bit about Blaise, and in two and sixteen I revised Dumbledore's description of Lily and Severus' relationship and Severus' description of it respectively. I'd advise looking over sixteen.  
  
Special thanks to Felicia, my beta-reader. Love you Felicia!  
  
Reviews:  
  
Simple Confusion: Thank you! Draco really is a spoiled brat, isn't he?  
  
Madame Moony: I will.  
  
Gryphnwng: Thank you for the awesome name suggestions! I agree-Alexander is used an amazing amount of times. I especially like Soterios.  
  
SlytherinAtHeart: I love your names! Especially Regenfrithu-it has a great meaning and a confusing spelling.  
  
Senshichan14: That's a neat name!  
  
Klick: I like Tobias, but Alexander has been used at least twice. Thank you for the suggestions.  
  
Athenakitty: Thank you for your confusing review.  
  
Amid the double moon: Oooh.those are awesome names!!!! Thank you!  
  
Nemati: (hangs head) I know, it took me forever. I am ashamed. I was thinking of using Septimius too, but I'm not sure.  
  
Desert Fox: Snape and Lily forever.  
  
Moonlady: Be calm!! (Covers ears) Narg!! Don't tell me all that or I'll chicken out on writing the next books!!!! :D  
  
Jade: Nergers! That makes two errors I have to correct! Thank you for telling me that!  
  
HaliJade Snape: Ok, since Blaise shouldn't be with Draco or Harry, should she be with Cepheus? Or no one? That's been troubling me for quite a while. I would LOVE to get Ron expelled for life, believe me!!  
  
Bitchkitten: Thank you, and I will try to update more often.  
  
crazy-lil-nae-nae: I'm glad you like it.  
  
Unus Salus Salazar: Thanks :P  
  
DragonQueen: (Blushes) So I've been told. Briar . . . that's very interesting. I'll consider it; definitely original!  
  
Boomerang-chan: (sniggers)  
  
Elessar: Thank you. 


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